


Unmistakable

by LumosLyra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1981, Accidental Mating, Alpha Severus Snape, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Hermione Granger Does Too, Instincts Warring With Sense, Knotting, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Occlumency, Omega Hermione Granger, Potions Accident, Protectiveness, Scenting, Severus Snape has a Lot of Feelings, Severus Snape is Surprisingly Sweet, Smut, Sort Of, Soulmates, The Smut Grew Feelings, Time Travel, Vaginal Fingering, accidental magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra
Summary: "There was a scent, clinging to the air in certain parts of the castle that made Hermione tremble.  On each inhale, it seeped into her skin and coated her in a blanket of warmth and on every exhale, it left her breathless with want.  She knew exactly to whom the scent belonged and yet, she didn’t.  He was hers and she was his; that was the way of things.It had always been the way of things."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 253
Kudos: 1521
Collections: Good Girl Hermione





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If I've learned anything, it's that half of my Fanfiction Facebook friends are enablers. So, I'm posting this first chapter before the fic is finished. I'm about 3/4 of the way to finishing it. It's not going to be terribly long and currently, I intend to post one chapter per week, which I think will give me plenty of time to get it finished. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as we go so as not to give anything away.
> 
> Major alpha love to Curly_Kay. That girl has been my saving grace throughout this entire writing process and I am SO thankful for her.

There was a scent, clinging to the air in certain parts of the castle that made Hermione tremble. On each inhale, it seeped into her skin and coated her in a blanket of warmth and on every exhale, it left her breathless with want. She knew exactly to whom the scent belonged and yet, she didn’t. He was hers and she was his; that was the way of things. 

It had always been the way of things. 

She’d once thought Betas were lucky. They were able to choose their mates. Omegas, however, were inexplicably tied to an Alpha. One Alpha in the sea of billions of people around the world that she might never find. There were even services to connect unmated Omegas to their Alphas, but they weren’t needed until the Omega’s scent glands fully developed as she approached her first heat. Sometimes, they were connected to a Beta who’d signed up to help an Omega with her heat until  _ her Alpha _ could be found. They didn’t have a knot nor were the able to break through the thin skin protecting the Omega’s mating gland. They served as a buffer, a way to prevent an Omega from being claimed by someone who wasn’t hers. 

It was dangerous to face a heat alone. Better to face it with a Beta and than by oneself. 

Hermione had reached maturity over the summer and the first time she scented Ron, she thought she might die from the shame of it. She’d had to shove her hand over her mouth and nose to stop the smell because it was  _ all wrong. _ She had, however, broken into a fit of laughter when she saw that he was doing the exact same thing. He was perfectly happy in his bachelorhood at the moment, as he’d yet to scent his own Omega. 

She always imagined using the service, but when she’d returned for her eighth year at Hogwarts, Hermione had scented her mate the moment she stepped into the Great Hall. 

He had been here. He had walked these halls and she’d made it her aim to find him. It was likely they’d gone to school together for the past several years and neither of them had been any wiser. It wasn’t something that was even thought of during school because of how late the presentations of Omegas occured. 

Sure, Omegas and Alphas might dream of meeting their perfect mate, but until they graduated from school, most of them had no idea whom they were destined for. It was one of the reasons pureblood marriage contracts existed only between Betas. 

To top it all off, the concept of having a mate was the one bit of divination she didn’t think was rubbish. Her parents were a mated pair and her grandparents before them. Both sets muggle, as it was uncommon for a muggle to match with a wizard, though not unheard of. 

Every time she caught a whiff of his scent, the mating gland near her shoulder pulsed and throbbed and nearly sent her to her knees with the intensity of it. She  _ needed _ him and he was here, somewhere in the castle. She knew that if she was able to scent him, he should have been able to do the same to her. 

Term had been in session for one week and it had been driving her absolutely mad. 

Why hadn’t he come looking for her? 

……….

It was the strongest in the dungeons. 

Every time she trekked to her NEWT level potions class with Professor Slughorn, she scented him. His scent clung to the damp corridors and blanketed her as she passed through each ancient hall. The potency sometimes made it difficult to concentrate, but none of the Alphas in her classes had ever even batted an eye in her direction. 

It was possible he could have been younger than her. She completely dismissed the fact that it was someone older. Their scent shouldn’t have been so strong if he hadn’t been at the school within the past year. The majority of their professors were female and with Remus Lupin being the only male Alpha on staff and happily married to his own Omega, she knew it couldn’t be him. 

It only stood to reason that with the damage the castle sustained, the scent of him wouldn’t have been so strong were he not also at Hogwarts. 

“You’re distracted again,” Malfoy said as Hermione turned the stirring rod in the cauldron. 

Her eyes popped open wide and she glanced down, ensuring she hadn’t ruined the potion they had been tasked with brewing. Luckily, she hadn’t. It was still a crystalline blue, just as it should be before the aster petals were added. 

Malfoy ran the blade through the purple petals, slicing them with ease. “You’ve scented him, haven’t you?” he asked, sprinkling the petals into the cauldron. 

Hermione nodded, “It’s like I can’t think when I’m down here.” 

In the week they’d been back, she’d developed a tentative truce with Malfoy and had been making an effort to be nice to him, though many spat his name as if it were poisoned. Having him as a potions partner was surprisingly nice. He was intelligent enough and they worked well together, everything considered. 

Malfoy passed her the vial of leech blood and the bowl of lemon juice to combine while he whisked the spiders eggs into the eel slime. “He’s not come forward yet, I take it?” 

“No. I don’t think I’d be this distracted if I knew who he was,” she said, picking through her potions kit for the correct size dropper. “We’re you like this with Astoria?” 

“Probably worse,” he shrugged. “She came into maturity so much younger than anyone expected and I felt like I would have to tear down walls to find her, each time I caught her scent. You know the rest of the story.” 

Astoria had come back to Hogwarts, trying to hide her presentation with suppressants she brewed herself. Unfortunately, they hadn’t worked. Hermione had come upon the pair of them in a deserted corridor and Draco had backed the younger witch into a corner and her eyes were wide with what Hermione interpreted, at the time, as fright. They’d carted him to the hospital together, Hermione apologizing profusely, and now, Draco and Astoria were nearly inseparable. 

It was the catalyst that started their tentative friendship. 

After potions finished, Hermione lingered in the classroom when Slughorn waddled off towards the Great Hall in search of lunch. Her fingertips traced over the ancient wood of the desk, seated at the front of the room as she leaned against it, looking out over the classroom. 

She hoped to be somewhere like this one day, passing on her knowledge to future generations. Before the war, she’d aspired to the post of Minister for Magic or at the very least, a position in the Wizengamot, but the war had changed all of that. She wanted to live quietly, and obtaining a mastery and teaching seemed to be her favored option, for the moment.

Magic danced along the tips of her fingers as she trailed them along the woodgrain, marked with Merlin knew how many years of scratches shining below a carefully buffed layer of wax. When her finger brushed along the edge of the desk, a tiny drawer popped out, containing a single key made of heavy iron. Hermione held her breath as she picked up the key, her eyes immediately scanning the room for any sign of a lock. 

When none could be seen, she stood and began to walk the perimeter of the room, fingers dancing over the cold stones of the dungeon classroom as she sought the keyhole. She even looked under the bunting and tapestries Professor Slughorn had seen fit to hang on some of the walls, but she found no sign of where the key might belong. 

There were no false stones or hiddens doors she could find. With a sigh, she closed the tiny compartment in the desk and tucked the key into the pocket of her robes. 

When she left the potions classroom, satchel slung over her shoulder, she turned towards the dungeons rather than towards the staircase that would send her to the Great Hall. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but there was something about the key that intrigued her. She’d seen ironworks on the doors of the dungeons before and knew it couldn’t be far. 

She didn’t know what exactly it might lead to, but she could feel the magic pulsing from it. It was neither hostile nor welcoming, but it seemed to recognize her as she curled her fingers around it in her pocket. 

She turned down several corridors until she came to an unassuming dark oak door with iron hinges near the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms. The same sort of recognition pulsed into her hand when she laid it atop the wood. 

She pulled the key from her pocket and pressed it into the keyhole. Instead of being met with resistance, it turned with ease and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. The door was a little more resistant to open, but when she channeled her magic through her hand, it swung open with ease to allow her entry and closed on it’s own when she stepped inside. 

She found herself in a tidy room with a small sofa and shelves nearly overflowing with books. An empty teacup sat atop a saucer on a coffee table next to a stack of academic journals. There were no photographs within the room but several magical landscape portraits were hung on the sparsely decorated walls. A small writing desk was tucked near the back of the space with a matching chair placed before it.

The scent of him in the air was unmistakable. 

It was everywhere in this tidy living space, clinging to the ancient tapestries on the far wall and the throw pillows on the sofa. Her heart pounded as she crossed the small room, nearly tripping over the antique rug on the floor, to open one of two doors leading off of the main room. 

The bedroom she found herself in was devoid of dust, the same as the living area, but the flowers in the vase next to the bed were shrivelled and dry, though she paid them no mind. A small lavatory was found off of the bedroom on the wall opposite of a large wardrobe.

The bed was covered in a dark gray duvet with subtle embroidery while a veritable mountain of fluffy pillows in a matching fabric sat against the thick, wooden headboard.

Hermione shed her outer robes on the floor, leaving her in only her uniform, and tore open the wardrobe. She grasped at the dark fabrics and buried her nose in them, inhaling deeping and nearly falling to her knees with want as the scent of smoky scent of burning wood and herbs filled every crevice within her.

_ Alpha. _

She moved before she could think, shedding her own clothing in a pile on the floor, suddenly so desperate to be surrounded by him. She wrapped a long, black shirt around her torso, leaving the robes in their place, and she was engulfed in him. His scent seeped into her pores and made her feel nearly completely. A sense of calm flooded her body as the fabric brushed against her bare skin. 

This was where she was meant to be. In these chambers, with  _ her Alpha. _

He lived here and he would come for her. He had to. She only had to be patient and he would come. He would find her waiting and willing and ready to wrap her arms around him to welcome him home. 

_ Alpha will be pleased. _

_ Alpha will take care of you.  _

_ Alpha will be here soon. _

Hermione crawled into his bed and buried herself under the thick duvet. She waited, listening for any sign of him until her eyes grew drowsy and she fell asleep. She dreamt of him, a nameless figure that held her and needed her just as much as she needed him. The one person in the world who would love her and cherish her, no matter the circumstances. 

And after everything she’d been through. Every curse she’d taken, every ordeal she’d endured. His presence would make it worth it. She’d thought of him as she huddled in the tent with Harry and Ron as they worked to bring Voldemort down, wondering where he was and what he was doing. Wondering if he thought of her. 

But by the time she woke up, hours later and weak with fatigue of not having eaten, he still hadn’t come. 

A feeling of unease settled in her stomach. If her Alpha wasn’t here with her, then where was he? Surely he should have come back to his room by now? They were well past lunch and classes would have finished. 

He should be here. 

She forced herself out of his bed and wandered back out into the middle of the small flat, stockinged feet padding over the cold wood floors. She shivered, the thin shirt she’d draped around her did little to stop the biting cold of the dungeons from seeping into her bones. 

She made her way towards the back of the room to the small writing desk tucked off in the corner. There were beautiful eagle feather quills and elegant glass inkpots and many sheets of fine parchment within the small compartments of the desk. Pulling a folded sheet of parchment from one of the compartments in her curiosity, all of the air rushed from her lungs when she read the two words inscribed upon the folded note. 

_ Severus Snape _

An anguished cry tore from her throat and she suddenly felt as though she were drowning. Her knees buckled and she landed, hard, on the cold floor. The comforting scent that had blanketed and comforted her, now felt as though it were smothering her, stealing her breath and making her dizzy with grief. 

Her Alpha wasn’t coming. 

He was  _ never  _ coming. 

Her Alpha was dead. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha love to Curly_Kay. She's the best and it's her birthday, so go tell her that she is amazing. <3

It was the Headmistress who found her. 

Hermione hadn’t moved from where she had collapsed, eyes blistering red with no more tears in them to be shed, and still wrapped in one of his shirts. She was shivering in the cold, head resting against the slats of the wooden floor with her knees pulled up to her chest. 

The sound of the Headmistress’ voice bounced around in Hermione’s mind like a quiet echo, one that was not easily discerned. It was drowned out by a much louder mantra rumbling through her mind like a raging thunderstorm.

_ Alpha isn’t coming. _

_ Your Alpha left you alone in this world.  _

_ Alpha died before he knew about you.  _

_ No Alpha. _

_ Alone.  _

It wasn’t that terrible things happened to unmated Omegas. Hermione would still be expected to live a full life. She could marry a Beta and bear children, if she chose, but something would always be missing. The scent would always be wrong. There would never be a knot to swell. She would never feel satisfied during her heats. She would have to be on suppressants to keep her safe. 

She was too busy mourning the loss of her Alpha for it to set in exactly  _ who _ her Alpha was. She’d never had the chance to know Severus Snape as anyone other than an acerbic, bitter man who died before he ever had a chance to find happiness. With everything she’d learned from Harry about his love for Lily Potter and having to serve two Masters from the time he was barely older than her, she couldn’t blame him. It was easy to see why he was the way he was. 

She could have been his happiness. 

She could have _ loved _ him. 

But now, she would never have the chance. He was gone. 

Hermione barely registered that anyone was in Severus’ quarters with her. She stared blankly at the floor, a broken woman at the young age of nearly nineteen, as a calming draught was pressed to her lips. It did little to dull the grief radiating through her. 

Eventually, the Headmistress and Madam Pomfrey coaxed her from the floor and she moved with heavy steps to the sofa where a warm cup of tea was pressed into her hand. Hermione spent more time staring at the warm liquid than she did drinking it, wondering when the last time he’d touched the tea cup on the coffee table next to the stack of academic journals. When was the last time he’d had a chance to read any of the journals? 

She knew his last year at Hogwarts had been hell. Neville, Ginny, and some of the other Gryffindors told stories about what it was like under Snape’s reign with the Carrows constantly wreaking havoc. When she, Harry, and Ron witnessed Nagini’s bite, Hermione had tried so hard to save him. She vividly remembered how her hands were coated in sticky, dark red blood as she pressed them against the wound on his neck in a paltry effort to stem the rapid flow. The small stores of medical supplies she had while they were on the run had dwindled and she had little more than her hands and what few healing spells she knew. 

He’d saved them all that night and yet, she couldn’t save him. 

She’d been there when he drew his last breath and she hadn’t _ known _ . Would it have even made a difference if she’d known she was his and he was hers? 

A fresh wave washed over her as the memories from that night played on a loop behind her eyes. She was nearly certain he hadn’t known. There had been no glint of recognition in his eyes. They were dark and cold and directed only on Harry.

Not her. Never her. 

_ Alone. _

The teacup shattered in her hands, shards of porcelain piercing her skin from her burst of accidental magic. The Matron and the Headmistress rushed to her side and quickly tended to her wounds as they spoke in hushed whispers. Her body felt heavy and she drifted in and out of consciousness, only catching bits of their conversation. 

“She’s in shock, Minerva. Emotional and Magical Exhaustion.”

“How did she ever break through the wards?” 

“This might sting, Miss Granger.” 

“Severus couldn’t have known.” 

“She’ll need a suppressant potion.” 

“Miss Granger, drink this. It’s only a nourishment potion.” 

“Now this one. This one will help you rest, dear.” 

Hermione awoke again, hours later, in a hospital gown in a bed in the hospital wing. The scent of her mate no longer clung to her skin and it was like she could and couldn’t breathe, all at the same time. Part of her craved it, her body revolting that she could no longer sense it near as the grief in her heart still held. But, without his scent surrounding her, reminding her that he wasn’t there, everything hurt a little less. 

It didn’t stop her from wanting to march back down to the dungeons and bury herself amongst his things until she could no longer scent him. It didn’t stop her from wanting to nest in his bed and make it perfect for them, even though she knew he wasn’t coming. It didn’t stop her from trying to memorize every memory she had of him. 

It didn’t stop her grief. 

The Headmistress visited her early the next day. 

“Did he know?” Hermione asked quietly, knees drawn up to her chest and her thin arms wrapped around them. Dark shadows marred the skin beneath her eyes. 

The Headmistress shook her head, “No, my dear. He would have come for you, had he known. There’s nothing anyone can do to stop an Alpha from finding his mate.” 

“He was my professor,” she said, feeling like somehow that would have stopped him. 

“There’s nothing to stop the pull of destiny, Hermione. That would not have mattered and allowances would have been made, were circumstances different.” The Headmistress adjusted her thin, wire-framed glasses, “It would not have been the first time in Hogwarts history that a professor and a student were found to be a matched pair.” 

Hermione could only nod. Allowances would have been made for them. It rolled around her mind like an echo, pinging against the walls of her consciousness. They could have been happy, if they’d been given the chance and the time. 

“What will I do?” 

“Your attendance here is not mandatory, my dear. You have the choice to remain and finish out the year or to leave and do as you wish. Though I certainly hope you choose to stay and complete your education.”

She thought it over briefly. She didn’t really have anywhere else to go if she chose to leave. Her parents were still in Australia and her best friends were training to be aurors somewhere on the continent. They wouldn’t be back for months. And, of course, taking her NEWTs and finishing school had always been so incredibly important to her. She needed some modicum of normalcy. She needed to move forward.

Or at the very least, try. 

“I’ll stay.” 

“Very well,” the Headmistress said with a kind smile. “May I ask you one thing?” 

Hermione nodded, turning her brown eyes to look at her former Transfiguration professor as her grip on her knees lessened. “Yes.” 

“How did you break through his wards?” she asked, “No one has been able to enter that room since he passed.” 

Hermione’s teeth found her lower lip and her curls swung forward to hide her face as she pressed her forehead against her forearms. “I found a key. It was hidden in the desk in the potions classroom. I didn’t break through the wards, Headmistress. They admitted me without hesitation.” 

“Is that why you asked if he’d known?” 

Hermione couldn’t bring herself to speak. Some small part of her hoped he knew but she knew it was impossible. He couldn’t have known. She hadn’t reached maturity until August and he’d passed in May. 

“Soul magic is little understood, Hermione. It’s possible he keyed the wards to his mate years ago in hopes that he would find her or that she would find him.” 

Cold air rushed into her lungs as she drew a deep breath. It was time to move forward. She shoved all thoughts of her Alpha away from her mind and swallowed her grief. She couldn’t think about it anymore now. She couldn’t think about _ him _ any more.

“When may I return to my classes?” she asked, lowering her knees to sit with her legs crossed on the bed. 

“On Monday, if you wish,” the Headmistress said. 

……….

Returning to classes wasn’t easy. His scent followed her every time Hermione walked through the halls of Hogwarts, as though he were a ghostly spectre sent to haunt her. She’d turned around several times, expecting to find him scowling at her back, ready to take points for the smallest of infractions, but he was never there. 

It was her only way to remember him. She tried to commit everything she knew about Severus Snape to memory since she’d never had the chance to form new memories with him. But there was so much she didn’t know. In time, she intended to ask those who knew him for more information, but it wasn’t something she could do right now. She was barely holding herself together as it was. 

Hermione wondered how he would have reacted, finding out who his mate truly was and she made herself giggle when she imagined him taking points for a foolish Gryffindor know-it-all being his Omega. Of course, she’d burst into tears immediately after the thought crossed her mind and the giggles turned to whimpers as she sniffled into her pillow. 

Ginny and Neville had repeatedly asked her what was wrong when they saw her at meals or in classes, but she brushed them off each time. How could you explain to two Betas what it was like to scent your mate only to find out he was no longer alive? There was no way she would be able to articulate the heavy burden of grief that had settled over her. 

In time, perhaps, she would be okay. She would be able to move throughout her days without wanting to cry and every little thing. But she was making an effort despite the fact that walking the halls was akin to torture because his scent still lingered and her heart fluttered in hope that he would come for her. 

Her mind, however, told her the truth. 

_ Alpha isn’t coming.  _

When Madam Pomfrey handed her a vial of suppressant potion, she stared at it for an hour before she had the courage to take it. It felt wrong and it tasted even worse. There was no getting around her heat, but it would hopefully make it bearable when it came. 

It didn’t. 

The first tendrils of fever began to settle in when she was seated at the potions bench and only got worse as the day wore on. No matter how many sweaters she wore and how many cups of warm tea she drank, Hermione shivered. The only thing that seemed to ease the ache just a little was being in the dungeons where his scent still lingered. She could breathe down there in the damp corridors. 

Each step she took was heavy, but she pulled herself through the ancient stone passage until she reached the dark oak door. Her fingers curled around the key in her pocket, hand shaking as she pushed it into the keyhole. She knew this was probably a bad idea and when her heat fully set in, it would make things worse… but she was powerless to resist the pull of him. 

When she touched the door with her hand, it swung open on it’s hinges, in exactly the same easy way it had one week ago. 

And when she entered his chambers, she felt relief. She shed her sweaters and the rest of her uniform and pulled one of his shirts from the wardrobe, wrapping it around herself. The fabric felt itchy and wrong against her skin, but the scent of herbs and woodfire clinging to it eased some of the ache forming in her core. 

A cramp tore through her abdomen as she crawled into his bed, tucking herself beneath the duvet and gathering the pillows around her in a makeshift nest before wrapping herself around the one that smelled the most like him.

_ Alpha should be here. _

_ Alpha isn’t coming. _

She whined as a rush of slick coated her thighs and drenched her knickers. She’d never felt pain like it and deep down, she knew there would be little relief. She’d weather her heat alone as she would have to do for the remainder of her life and  _ Gods _ , it hurt so much. 

The walls of her cunt clenched around nothing and she screamed into the pillow she was holding as another cramp ripped through her abdomen. She was burning and shivering and she  _ needed him and he wasn’t coming. _

When the cramp finally ceased, Hermione all but crawled out of bed, out of the safety of her tiny nest that he would never see. Never praise her for. There had to be a pain potion somewhere in his chambers. Something,  _ anything _ , to lessen the pain of going through her heat alone. 

She glanced at the configuration of pillows and blankets and fluffed or two before she took slow, painful steps away from it, every nerve in her body begging her to run back and tuck herself back safely amongst his things.

Hermione stumbled into the living room, the skin of her hands scraping against the stone wall as she desperately grabbed for purchase before she fell to the floor. She wiped the blood from several scratches crisscrossing her palms onto the fabric of Severus’ shirt and crawled across the floor to the other door in the room she hadn’t had a chance to enter. 

She felt dizzy as she pulled herself to her feet and turned the knob, pushing the door open and stumbling into a potions lab. There were cauldrons still under stasis and ingredients strewn about the tables in varying states of preservation. It almost looked as if it had been used recently, save for the thin layer of dust on a wooden stool that was likely not protected by the same dust-repelling charms that the tables were. 

Her hand wrapped around her stomach as she forced her eyes to focus on the label of each bottle, written in a slanted scrawl. She’d seen that script in every biting comment he’d left on the essays she’d submitted when she’d been his student. 

None of the labels held what she was looking for and she moved on, stepping further into the narrow space. 

When another cramp tore through her abdomen, Hermione crumpled, grasping at a table filled with crystal vials to steady herself. She missed the edge of the table and instead, knocked the antique stand filled with vials to the floor as she collapsed. Dust and multi-colored vapor swirled in the air around her.

Her head pounded in time with her heartbeat as she lay crumpled on the floor for Merlin knew how long. Hermione suspected she had lost consciousness because the inferno raging beneath her skin seemed to burn hotter and her skin felt slick with sweat as she shivered on the floor, arms wrapped around her abdomen and her knees pulled to her chest. 

The torture ebbed when a cool hand pressed gently against her cheek and her nose was once more filled with the strong, comforting scent of her mate. 

“It hurts,” she whined. 

“I know, little one,” a deep voice crooned.

Hermione shook her head, knowing no one was coming. The feeling of the hand pressing against her cheek couldn’t have been real. “How do I make it stop?” she whimpered, tears welling in her eyes, “It burns.” 

The hand threaded through her sweat-soaked curls. “Let me take care of you, Omega.” 

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze following the direction from where the voice had come. Her vision wavered, tiny stars flashing and blurring her surroundings. Her head throbbed with the smell of potions brewing. The scent of him grounded her, like woodsmoke and herbs, and suddenly, he was the only thing in focus. 

He must have been a hallucination, but Severus Snape was kneeling beside her, his dark eyes wide and full of concern. He was exactly how she would have imagined he may have looked in his youth before he was aged beyond his years into the bitter man she had known. He was tall but thin, and not nearly as broad as other Alphas she knew, but he would still tower over her. His complexion was pale and his features were striking, though not conventionally handsome. 

And he was hers. 

But she knew it wouldn’t last. 

She held on to the vision as her eyelids began to flutter closed once more. 

“Alpha isn’t coming,” she said quietly, the words slipping from her lips as she was once again bathed in darkness, though he didn’t disappear as she expected. She still felt his blunt nails stroking through her curls and scented him as though he were there with her. She felt his presence at her side and if she listened hard enough, she could almost hear the beat of his heart as it thumped loudly in his chest.

“I”m _ here _ , Omega.” 

Her eyes flew open and she pressed her hand against his cheek, the skin of her palm meeting warm  _ real _ flesh as he leaned into her touch.

He wasn’t a mere vision. 

He was  _ there. _

_ Alpha. _

“Severus.” 


	3. Chapter 3

His first year as Potion Master on staff at Hogwarts was exactly as awful as he had anticipated, though the term had only been in session for a few, short weeks. The children were snot-nosed imbeciles who knew nothing about the safety required when brewing and no matter how much he tried to impress that importance upon them, he still ended up with several exploding cauldrons in his classroom each week. 

Severus had never wanted to teach, but it was the price to pay to protect his childhood best friend and her idiot husband from the clutches of the madman he’d tied himself to. It was possible he might enjoy teaching if the children would  _ just fucking listen. _ But of course, they were too concerned with passing notes and sending secret stinging jinxes at each other. 

And if he had to confiscate one more Alpha/Omega sappy romance novel, he would find a hex that would force them not to present until they were thirty. Better yet, he would invent one. 

Severus thought about the severe, black teaching robes his own Master of Potions had worn while he was completing his Mastery and contemplated purchasing a set to wear instead of the simple set he currently owned. He knew if he merely mentioned it to Lucius, he would end up with a wardrobe full of expensive, tailored self-sizing robes with matching accessories before he could bat an eye. Given that his best friend had already paid for him to complete his Mastery, he considered it poor form to take advantage of the man’s generosity once more. 

His friendship with Lucius was one of the few good things in his life. The older wizard wore a facade of arrogance at all times, strutting about like one of his irritating peacocks with that ridiculous cane, but beneath the frippery, he insisted upon, Lucius was generous and kind. He was also intelligent and charismatic, two qualities which made him perfect to throw his money around the Ministry in favor of the Dark Lord’s agenda. 

It was becoming clear with each passing week that the Dark Lord was slipping more into madness. When Severus had first joined his ranks, taking the Dark Mark with pride, the Dark Lord had been akin to a level-headed politician with grand ideas of the way things should be. Since the revelation of the prophecy concerning whom he suspected to be Lily Potter’s young child, it was becoming easy to see the cracks in the Dark Lord’s carefully crafted facade. 

For years, Severus thought that when Lily reached maturity, he would scent her as his mate. She’d been the one good thing in his life growing up and he’d clung to that hope so desperately that when he scented her and it was  _ all wrong _ , he threw himself into the Dark Lord’s cause with a fervor. When it came out that she was mated to James Potter, of all of the Alphas in the world, Severus nearly lost it. He spiraled into a pattern of destructive behavior and still hadn’t managed to pull himself back from it completely. He nearly gleefully practiced dark magic with his brethren while indulging in muggle cigarettes and unnamed potions sold in shady back alleys that caused euphoria and sometimes hallucinations. 

There was a time Severus clung to those hallucinations like they were his lifeblood. If he couldn’t have Lily for his own, he could hallucinate a life with her. A tidy cottage with a large shed in the back for his potions, two children chasing each other around the garden with her eyes and his dark hair, Lily making lunch for their family in the kitchen.

It was wonderful… and yet, he emerged from each hallucination a broken man.

It was Lucius who forced him to pull back and locked him in a room in Malfoy Manor for a week in a bid to force him into sobriety. He’d screamed himself silent and tore the room to shreds but he came out of it a better man. He shunned the potions and drew back from practicing too much dark magic and focused his anger instead, on his studies.

His muggle cigarette habit was proving difficult to give up, however. 

He’d signed up for the service mere days after he presented, but they’d yet to locate his Omega. Rationally, he knew he might never find her— some matched pairs were born into different generations or across the world from the other, but he hadn’t given up hope quite yet. 

Instead, he buried himself in his work. 

Before, it was crafting potions for the Dark Lord, but then he’d been instructed by both of his Masters to take the open position at Hogwarts teaching Potions. It was the price Severus had to pay to Dumbledore in order to try to save Lily’s life, though the Dark Lord commanded it of him in order to gather information about the Order of the Phoenix. 

Part of him enjoyed the subterfuge, the risks he had to take serving two masters with completely different purposes. It gave him a high akin to the potions but it left him fearing for his own life. Fortunately, there was little to do when the school year was in session save for the occasional meeting, as the Dark Lord had instructed him to remain at Hogwarts as much as possible. How else was he to get close to Dumbledore? 

Severus only hoped he made it out of the war alive. 

Unfortunately, he was already beginning to doubt that was possible. 

Poppy needed more potions for the Hospital Wing. With as many students landed themselves in her beds from his class alone, he’d been surprised when she’d only asked for a few blood replenishers, calming draughts, and burn ointment. It was an easy order, one he could fulfill almost with his eyes closed. 

He’d set the potions to brewing in their respective cauldrons and covered them with a shield charm as he stepped away to the other side of his lab. Drawing the pack from his pocket, he slid a cigarette from the packaging and brushed it under his nose, inhaling the warm, spicy scent of the high-quality tobacco. Conjuring a small flame between his thumb and forefinger, he placed the cigarette between his lips and inhaled. 

The rush of calm flooded him immediately as thick smoke filled his lungs. He leaned his head back against the stone wall and exhaled, nearly sighing with relief as the tension eased from him. 

He took like that for minutes, taking slow drags off of the cigarette while lost in his own thoughts.

The cigarette fell from his hand when the walls of his potions lab began to tremble and groan with a horrifying grind of stone on stone. It ended up crushed beneath the heel of his boot as he quickly strengthened the shield charm over the three cauldrons and cast one over himself, dust falling from the ceiling to cover the tables and the floor.

Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. 

Severus grumbled to himself and pulled another cigarette from the pack after tucking his wand away, but it made it no further than halfway out of the paper wrapper when he stilled. Lying on the floor of his potions lab was a woman clothed only in a man’s shirt. Dark, wild curls fanned out over the floor and obscured her face from view. The palms of her hands bore fresh scrapes and scratches while bruises dotted her bare knees. 

Apparition within the grounds of Hogwarts was only allowed for the Headmaster, but Severus had no other explanation for why a young woman had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of his potions lab. 

She clutched her stomach and drew her legs up towards her chest with a groan. 

She was alive, at least. 

He approached her, slowly, pulling his wand from where he kept it secured to his forearm. He’d need to inform the Headmaster of her presence. The spell died on his lips when he was suddenly overwhelmed by  _ her. _ Something settled deep within his chest as he breathed her in. She was like sunshine after a rainstorm and the bright scent of a garden on a hot summer day. 

And somehow, he knew she was  _ his. _

And  _ Gods _ , she was tiny. A little scrap of a thing with tanned skin and wild curls. He knelt beside her and brushed the curls from her face to reveal freckled cheeks and full lips. His hand settled against her cheek. 

She was burning up. 

“It hurts,” she whined. Her voice was quiet and pained and it called to him. It begged him, in those two words, to take away the hurt and was helpless to resist. 

_ Omega needs you.  _

“I know, little one,” he crooned softly. His eyes roved over her body, studying her injuries. He couldn’t see any other external ones apart from the bruises on her knees and the scrapes along her hands. 

Her face grimaced in pain once more and she clutched her abdomen, curling into herself once more. The small movement was enough for the scent of her arousal to fill his nose. When he looked closer, he could see the glisten of slick between her thighs. 

His Omega was in  _ heat. _

_ Knot her. Bite her. Mate her.  _

_ Yours. _

If it hadn’t been months since Severus had taken a euphoria potion, he would have thought her a figment of his imagination, a hallucination, some ethereal spectre come to torment him. But she was real, and warm, and so lovely. 

“How do I make it stop?” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. “It burns.” 

He threaded his fingers into her wild curls, mesmerized at the softness of each tiny ringlet. She was perfect, and she was his, and she was  _ here _ . He couldn’t think about the circumstances of her appearance in his lab when concern for her laced through him like a hot knife. 

“Let me take care of you, Omega,” he begged. 

He would not be like the man who sired him. Claiming the first unmated Omega he’d come across and leaving her a miserable husk of a woman when he’d found out she was a witch. He needed her to say she was his, to trust he would take care of her, guiding her through her heat. He needed her consent and he would beg her for it if he had to. 

His instincts were begging him to gather her in his arms and whisk her away to the safety of his bedroom. There were pillows and blankets and it would be perfect. He needed to press soft kisses against her cheeks and coat her in his scent. To knot her and claim her is his own. 

_ Her choice.  _

_ Mine.  _

Severus quickly pulled gentle shields around his mind to dampen the instincts warring with what he knew was right.

The dark lashes surrounding her eyes fluttered open and he was greeted by a set of amber-colored eyes with flecks of gold and dark brown. It would have been easy to drown himself in her gaze but they closed once more just as quickly as they had opened. 

“Alpha isn’t coming,” she whimpered, her face pressing against the cool stones of the floor. 

Severus was struck with confusion. Her scent was unlike anything he had experienced before and he knew with every fiber of his being that she was meant for him. The moment his hand pressed against her cheek, it was like the broken pieces of his soul were suddenly made whole. She filled in all of the cracks and crevices in a single touch. 

He knew in an instant. Did she not realize? Had she not  _ felt it _ ?

“I’m  _ here _ , Omega,” he pressed, stroking his thumb along the curve of her cheek. 

Her eyes flew open and one of her tiny hands, dark with dried blood, pressed against his cheek and he couldn’t help but lean into her. The relief in her eyes was palpable, something he could almost hold. It was as though she was just now realizing he was real. 

“Severus.” 

The way she said his name made his soul sing. The way it rolled off of her lips, her tongue caressing each syllable with a reverence he never thought possible. It made him want to wrap himself around her and never let her go. He wouldn’t have to. She was his, was she not? 

Her name was poised on the tip of his tongue when he stilled. He didn’t even  _ know _ her name. He didn’t know  _ her _ . He couldn’t recall having ever set eyes upon her before as he scanned through the catalogue of faces in his memory. 

How could she have possibly known who he was?

She noticed the confusion written across his features because she drew back, a tiny furrow wrinkling between her sweat-soaked brows. “You… you don’t know me.” 

He shook his head, confirming her suspicions. He didn’t know her, but he didn’t need to. He had plenty of time to learn everything about her. Ages to find out how she came to him. Years to learn every inch of her body. A lifetime to love her. 

“I know you’re  _ mine _ ,” he said, his thumb trailing over her lips. A myriad of emotions swirled within her amber eyes but when he’d uttered the last word, the desire within was unmistakable. 

“I know you’re in heat,” he said, breathing in the scent of her arousal as his other hand came to rest between her shoulder blades, gently lifting her up from the floor. 

“I know you’re injured,” he said softly, the corners of his lips pulling down in a frown. 

Severus pulled her into his lap and settled her against his chest, lifting the palm of one of her hands so he could inspect the scratches there more closely. They weren’t very deep, a simple cream would heal them after they were cleaned, but the idea of her being harmed made something within him rage. The idea that he wasn’t there to protect her from whatever bloodied her palms and bruised her knees forced the current of his magic to bristle just beneath his pale skin. 

He pressed his lips against the crown of her head and she leaned into him, forcing all of the rage bubbling just below the surface of his skin to dissipate.

The way she pressed herself against him, the soft smile on her lips, and the overwhelming scent of contentment rolling off of her was all the consent he needed. 

“And I’m going to take care of you.” 


	4. Chapter 4

“And I’m going to take care of you,” Severus said, his voice was like velvet, so rich and sumptuous that Hermione wanted to bathe in it. 

“Yes, Alpha,” she managed to whisper.

Were it not for the steady ache between her thighs, she could easily listen to him speak for ages. Images of what  _ could be _ flashed through her and in them she saw so much potential between them. So much they could have been and so much they still could be. 

The sheer amount of hope crushed any grief she had felt.

She didn’t know what happened after she broke the vials in his potions lab, but he was here and she could feel the steady thump of his beating heart as she pressed herself against his chest. The scent radiating from him was so much more nuanced than what she had scented in his chambers. The woodsmoke and herbs were still present, but there was an underlying scent of freshly mown grass and cool winter days. 

Just being near him soothed the pain in her abdomen and calmed the fire burning through her veins, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She’d read every book she could get her hands on and had a good idea of what was to come. 

Nothing in those books had prepared her for the way the fevers and the cramps made her feel as if she were simultaneously burning from the inside and out. 

Nothing in those books had prepared her for the wave of calm that washed over her when he cradled her against his chest. 

Nothing in those books had prepared her for the sheer need she felt when she looked at him and the tingles that floated over her skin when he touched her. 

She felt so  _ empty.  _

He was different from what she remembered—younger and less careworn. The way he spoke to her was devoid of the biting comments and sarcastic wit she remembered from her days sitting in his classroom, mesmerized by the spiky scrawl written on the board that she attempted to follow to the letter to earn even an atom of praise.  _ This _ Severus looked at her as though she were the most precious thing in the world and the way he spoke to her with such care and concern threatened to rend her heart from her chest because she knew with absolute, unmistakable clarity that she could love him.

She couldn’t linger on the thought as another cramp tore through her midsection and the pinpricks of fever settled under her skin and pierced through her like tiny needles.

“ _ Alpha _ ,” she sobbed, clutching desperately at his shirt, fingers pulling and distorting the dark fabric. “ _ Please _ , it hurts.” 

Strong arms wrapped around her frame, still thin from months of malnutrition, and she felt the pain ebb once more as she melted against him. She could have never imagined the pull nor the instantaneous feeling of  _ rightness _ that coursed through her as he held her. 

It was so simple and yet, so profound. 

“Shh. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, his lips moving against her curls. “We need to get you cleaned up, first. Can you tell me what happened?” 

She tugged the memories to the surface of her mind, blurry in the haze of her fever. Everything hurt and she knew he wasn’t coming and she’d sought something to dull the pain. “I needed a pain potion and I tripped over the rug.” 

“Where were you?” he asked, pushing the curls from her face to wipe the tears from her cheeks. 

She looked towards the door leading out of the potions lab. “The one just outside of the bedroom, in the sitting room. It was dark blue with gold embellishment around the edges.” Hermione was amazed she recalled any details at all. She hadn’t been exactly coherent when she’d stumbled out of his bedroom and away from her tiny nest. 

Her fingers itched. Her nest. She needed to go back to it. 

Severus knew exactly the rug she was talking about. He’d found it rolled up in the attic of the old Prince estate and had carted it to Hogwarts with him where the elves were more than happy to restore it for him. But, she couldn’t have been in his chambers; he would have known the moment she passed through the wards. It seemed highly improbable, if not impossible. 

Hermione rubbed at the scent glands on her wrists and picked at the hem of the dark shirt with the tips of her fingers. The way it rubbed against her skin was uncomfortable and she wanted it off, but his hand stilled hers when she went to lift it over her head. 

“Not yet, little one,” he breathed, squeezing her hand. As much as he wanted to feel her bare skin as it moved against his own, there were things that needed to be done, things to be said. Severus forced down the voice in his head telling him to take her, to mate her. 

_ Omega is slick for us.  _

_ We need to take care of our Omega, she needs our knot.  _

_ Omega is ours.  _

Leaning down, he caught the scent of  _ his _ herbal soap as it clung to the shirt she was wearing. The fabric was richer than anything he owned and soft to the touch as he stroked his hand along the curve of her hip. His fingers grasped the dark fabric between them at the hemline. 

“Where did this shirt come from?” 

She turned to look at him, amber eyes wide. Every emotion she felt was inscribed upon her features and it would be so easy to simply dip into her mind, but he refrained. She was so expressive, his Omega as she gazed up with him with a sweet smile. 

Severus would give her the world. 

“From your wardrobe, in the bedroom.” The tiny Omega nuzzled close to him, her face pressing against his neck and her nose rubbing against one of his scent glands. He slammed down his Occlumency shields before he pushed her to the floor and rutted against her, right there against the cold stones. 

His Omega  _ did not _ deserve to spend her heat on the floor of his lab. 

“Smelled like you.  _ Needed _ you, Severus,” she said. Her tongue darted out to taste his skin and he knew their time was limited as he strengthened his shields, tucking everything he felt into a tidy box in the back of his mind. This Omega would be his undoing. The fever was burning through her at a rapid rate and it wouldn’t be long before she was completely lost to her heat.

Severus’ mind was spinning with the possibilities, but he offered her only a small hum in response. The scent of her so close to him was overwhelming and the feel of her tongue against his neck was heaven. Despite his shields, his instincts forced to the surface his need to ensure she was cared for and reminding him of her scraped hands and bruised knees and how he’d yet to do anything about them. 

Even such tiny injuries made his heart clench. She was hurt and he  _ hated _ it. 

Carefully, he stood, cradling the Omega to his chest. She threaded her arms around him and sighed so contentedly, it made his chest ache. He’d lied directly to the Dark Lord without detection and because of this Omega, his shields were already in danger of turning to dust.

Hermione felt better than she had in a week as he carried her through the small flat. He took careful steps around the furniture as they moved swiftly from one room to the next. She tried to pay attention to the flat, but her mind would only focus on her Alpha. 

_ How lovely he smelled.  _

The door to the bedroom was opened. 

_ How kind and strong he was. _

He set her down onto the bed and it only vaguely registered that it was tidy; she was so absorbed in him. The fluffy pillows were back at the headboard and the blankets were smooth and unmussed. 

_ How good his knot would feel when he was buried inside of her.  _

_ Oh Gods, _ just the thought of his knot caused a rush of slick from deep within as he walked away from the bed. Why was he walking away? Had she displeased him? 

She looked frantically around the bed. Her nest was gone. Alpha was displeased because her nest was  _ gone _ . Hermione started to whimper as she frantically reached for pillows and blankets and started fluffing them and stacking them in the exact configuration they needed to be, and then restacked them again just to be certain.

He returned quickly, long pale fingers carding through his dark hair and the sound of running water coming from the small lavatory she had seen off of his bedroom. He paused in his steps and exhaled a heavy breath. Hermione could see his body go rigid with the force of his control and for the first time, she caught a glimpse of the Severus Snape she had known. He was there, buried somewhere in this younger, kinder version of himself and it made her heart soar. 

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” she said with a frown as she tried to move one of the blankets only to accidentally topple over some of the pillows. Severus caught her around the waist as she scrambled for it, nearly launching herself off of the bed. 

“It’s a beautiful nest,” he whispered. “Perfect.”

She felt his hot breath course over her mating gland and she leaned back until she could feel the outline of his lips against the tender gland through her shirt. 

_ Bite me. Alpha, bite me. Please.  _

Severus jerked away from her, breathing heavily, then gently guided her off of the bed on shaky legs and into the lavatory. Hermione pouted at the loss of his mouth so close to her gland. 

She needed it. 

She had goals she wanted to accomplish. Finish out her schooling. Take her N.E.W.T.S. Get a job working… somewhere. But at this moment in time, it was all pushed aside as her instincts screamed that she needed him to take care of her, to mate her, and to make her belly round with their child.

_ Her mate. _

“We need to clean your hands or they might get infected,” he said, gently turning her hands up so she could see the bloodied scratches criss-crossing across her palms. 

Hermione nodded, “And then you’ll take the hurt away?” 

She could be good. She could wait if Alpha wanted her to wait.

She _ could. _

He nodded and stepped into her space, stealing her breath as he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her to sit on the marble countertop near the sink, placing both of her palms under the cool water. His lips grazed her forehead as the water washed away the bits of dirt, dried blood, and whatever ingredients had been in the vials she broke in the potions lab. Reaching for a cake of soap, he lathered his hand and grazed his fingertips over her palm, cleaning the tiny scratches with care. 

She was struck by the intensity in his gaze and he tended to her wounds. He kept her close, one arm wrapped around her as though she might disappear and she leaned against him. Her fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt when he released one of her hands to clean the other one. 

Until this moment, she hadn’t understood. She hadn’t truly comprehended what being in the presence of her mate would be like. She’d watched as her own mother and father moved in sync with each other for years, but this was so much more. She wondered if it had been the same for them, this instant need to fall into their arms and exist upon some ethereal plane until their grounding voice sent you plummeting back to earth. 

A small voice in the back of Hermione’s mind told her how explosive they would be. She knew Severus Snape would not be an easy man to live with. Even this younger, kinder version would likely have a hell of a temper, but she could give as good as she got. It could have been her heat, but the thought of arguing with him about theory and spell creation and runic translations made the arousal burning in her belly flare. 

Her hands were dried with a hand towel and he swiped a clear balm across the scrapes. “All done,” he said, turning the faucet off after washing the rest of the balm from his fingers. 

He leaned against the countertop, palms resting on the cool marble with Hermione centered between them. Dropping his forehead against hers, Severus nuzzled his nose along the soft skin of her cheek, breathing in her scent and slowly, carefully, dropping his shields. 

“Tell me your name.” His voice was quiet and restrained as one hand came to rest at the small of her back, though his fingers itched to travel north and cover her mating gland. 

She threaded her thin arms around his neck and tilted her chin up, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. “Hermione.” 

The sound of her name lit a fire in his belly that raged with uncontrolled desire. It took everything in him not to pull her to the edge of the counter and grind his pulsing hardness against the center he knew he would find hot and slick and ready for his knot. 

This precious creature deserved more than a quick coupling. She deserved to be  _ worshipped.  _ She deserved for her name breathed like a prayer on the lips of a repentant sinner. She deserved so much more than him, but she was  _ his _ . 

It was rare that Severus ever had anything that was truly his own. Growing up, everything was second hand, shabby and worn and now that he was a professor, everything was provided for him, but he didn’t truly own any of it, save for the antique rug, his wand, and his clothing. 

He had nothing to offer, nothing to give, but he would spend his days trying to be worthy of her. 

He would care for her, protect her, and love her. 

She was his, and his alone.

No other Omega he had ever scented had come close to the way she smelled, and she smelled like utter perfection, like she was meant for him. And even if he hadn’t read the studies and the books and heard the stories of Alphas and Omegas finding their mates, he would have known her by her scent alone. Still, some small part of him worried that they would be too different; that apart from their biology, they wouldn’t be compatible. 

Severus couldn’t stomach the thought and he’d barely spent an hour in her presence. 

He savored the way she tentatively explored him, fingers combing through his hair while her lips pillowed against his. He cupped her jaw in his palm, fingers splaying along the hard line and over the curve of her neck.

A soft moan was pulled from this throat when the tips of her fingers brushed over the scent gland at his neck.

“I need you, Alpha,” she begged, pulling back just enough that her words were not muffled, though her lips still moved against his. 

“Tell me what you need, little one.” The words were barely past his lips when she grasped one of his hands and pressed it against her center. He could feel the slick there, seeping through her knickers to coat his fingers. When she pressed his fingers against her core, her head dropped to his shoulder and she moaned, low and warm and full of  _ need _ . 

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. 

And it was all for him. 

When her small hand palmed him through his trousers, his control shattered, a feral growl ripping from this throat as the hand at the small of her back crushed her against his chest. 

She was no churchmouse, his Omega, and that suited him just fine. 

“ _ Please _ , Severus. I need your knot.” 

The way her lips parted and those six perfect words rolled off of her tongue made him want to rip the shirt she was wearing from her body and take her on the counter top. They made him want to sink his teeth into the gland at the back of her shoulder and pierce through her delicate flesh until they were joined. They made him want to bury himself inside of her and never let her out of his bed. 

He needed to feel her, to taste her, to  _ fuck _ her. 

To show her he could be everything she needed. 

“Bed, Hermione.  _ Now. _ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a quick thank you for the amazing feedback this story has garnered. I love reading your speculations about what happened and how they are together and I promise that everything will be revealed in time. I'm terrible at responding to comments, but I am actively trying to get better. Again, thank you so much for your amazing feedback. <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are the type of person who needs a trigger warning for anything dubious, pop down to the end-notes. If not, proceed!

“Bed, Hermione.  _ Now.”  _

A pair of strong hands at her waist lifted her from the counter and set her down gently on the floor. The smooth, cool stone beneath her feet provided only a second’s relief from the fever that coursed through her body and left her breathless. 

But it wasn’t enough.

Her hands grappled for purchase as they slid around his frame to grasp the fabric at the back of his shirt. She pressed her cheek against his chest, nose nuzzling against the scratchy fabric that was probably normally very soft when her entire skin didn’t feel like it was stretched too tight. When she breathed in him, it briefly soothed the fire, like a balm to a wound; it settled her—grounded her, but she needed  _ more. _

But then she forced herself to let go and make her way towards the bedroom, even though she didn’t make it far. When she stopped, staring at their reflection in the mirror, Severus collided with her back and his hands lingered at her waist. Soft lips pressed open-mouthed kisses against her shoulder and Hermione nearly vibrated out of her skin when his lips touched her mating gland through the thin fabric of the shirt. 

She was transfixed by him. The feeling of his hands at her waist. The way his hair cloaked his face from her view when he moved just so, or the way his eyes darkened when he caught her staring. 

His lips pulled soft whimpers from hers as they kissed the spot just behind her ear before tracing the helix with his tongue. Two fingers slid around one of the buttons holding her shirt closed to stroke the warm skin of her abdomen. 

It only served to increase the flames burning within her. There was a throbbing ache that seemed to pulse through her entire body that only he could ease. 

And she knew he would. 

She’d forced herself to go through the motions of her life and when her heat started and she knew,  _ she knew _ , where to catch any semblance of his scent, the pull was immediate and all-consuming. And now, with it surrounding her with every breath, every touch, and every taste of his mouth on her skin, every nerve ending in her entire body was alight and she burned in an entirely different way.

She burned only for him. 

For Severus Snape. 

A man she never imagined she would be connected to. One she never gave another thought to apart from the respect she felt for him as one of her professors. He was a man she mourned as his body grew cold beneath her hand and again when she saw his body interred in the grounds of Hogwarts as a hero, despite the mark on his arm. 

Her mind begged for answers. She needed to know how he was here and why he was alive and whether or not he had access to anti-aging potions, but she couldn’t think; she was so consumed by him as her heat consumed her. 

It was frustrating and wonderful and though she needed answers, she needed him more. 

“Are you ready to take my knot, Omega?” His voice was low and dark and she wanted to bathe in the sound of it. She wanted to feel the vibration of each syllable on her inner thigh, and the whispers of praise against her center before he worshipped every inch of her body. 

Severus Snape was not a man who rushed. She’d seen the slow, steady strides as he stalked the corridors and the way he took his time to discuss things quietly with his Slytherins. He took full enjoyment in sipping his morning coffee and was usually the last one to leave the professor’s table in the Great Hall before classes began. 

Perhaps she’d paid more attention to him than she previously thought. But there was one thing she knew for certain, Severus Snape was a man who  _ savored _ any pleasures he could take from life. 

He would make her wait while he explored every inch of her body until she was writhing, and messy, and over-stimulated to the point of begging for release. And it would be the sweetest torture she had ever experienced. 

The affirmation slipped out on a breathy moan from between her lips. “Yes, Alpha.”

He chuckled darkly, his teeth nipping just over her pulse point. “I think not, little Omega.”

She stiffened. Was Alpha not pleased with her? Had she done something wrong? Her lip started to quiver, but he stilled it with a press of his thumb. 

“Shh,” he cooed in that wonderful, dark baritone that she wanted to get lost in. “Perfect girl.” 

Hermione’s head dropped back against his chest, and when he slipped his thumb into her mouth, she moaned as his other fingers threaded around the side of her throat. She felt the swell of his cock at her back when the hand on her abdomen pressed her against his chest. The pad of his thumb pressed against her tongue and as she hollowed her cheeks and circled it with her tongue. And when a dangerous growl snarled up from his chest, she nearly came apart at the sound of it. 

She had done that and it made her feel powerful that she could pull such a carnal response from a man so composed as her Alpha. 

He turned her quickly and lifted her, large hands cupping her thighs until she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could almost feel the pulse of blood through his cock as she ground her center against him while he carried her to the bedroom. He dropped her in the middle of her makeshift nest and covered her body with his own.

……….

The way she spread herself for him was breathtaking. Her arms fell to the sides near her head and her legs parted, revealing her slick thighs and soaked knickers. She looked beautiful wearing what she claimed to be his shirt and only her knickers, but he wanted her bared before him. He intended to touch and taste every inch of this beautiful woman. 

Pale fingers threaded buttons through holes with practiced ease and her shirt parted, revealing tanned skin and soft rounded breasts bisected by a dark, jagged scar that ran the length of her torso. 

Severus stilled. 

A frisson of rage flared in his chest at the sight of the curse scar.  _ Someone _ had cursed  _ his Omega _ and he’d not been there to protect her. It made him want to tear them to pieces and drop them at her feet, trophies representative of his loyalty to her and a warning to all others of what might happen if anyone else dared to point their wand in her direction. 

He traced the line of the curse scar with a gentle touch when her scent changed. She was hesitant, nervous. “Who did this to you?” 

“Dolohov,” she said, shivering with each brush of his fingers over her warm skin. 

“When?” Severus lowered his head to place a kiss where the scar skipped over her heart. 

“Just over two years ago.”

His spine went rigid once more, lips still grazing her skin. He’d known Dolohov two years ago. The man had been completing his Charms Mastery at the same time he’d been completing his own Mastery in Potions. He knew little of the Russian wizard, only that he was skilled in dark magic and was currently amongst the Dark Lord’s favored, but the mention of his name on his Omega’s lips pushed him to the front of the queue of those Severus intended to harm.

No one would hurt his Omega. 

“Tell me what happened,” Severus commanded quietly, knowing the strain was evident in his voice as he struggled to maintain his control. He pulled his ragged shields around him like a blanket as he gently probed her for answers. Large hands slipped beneath the fabric of her shirt, skating over her curves until his palms rested along her ribcage, just below her breasts. 

He needed to feel that she was safe, that she was here with him. 

It was unfathomable. 

Hours ago, the thought that his Omega was out there somewhere was barely a passing thought. And yet, when she’d materialized almost at his feet, he was done for. He could never have predicted his feelings would be this strong, this fast. 

_ Mine. _

“There was a prophecy.” She arched into him, the cool air of his chambers causing her nipples to pebble into dusky peaks. “In the Department of Mysteries. Harry had a-a vision.” 

His mouth closed over her one of her breasts, tongue teasing the sensitive nipple. His control wavered. She just smelled so damned sweet that he couldn’t resist the pull to taste her. His instincts had slowly been crumbling any attempts he made at maintaining his shields and it was becoming more difficult to resist the pull of his biology. 

She moaned, “Do-Dolohov was there with… with other Death Eaters.” She was writhing beneath him now as he sucked and nipped at the taught bud. “Tried to s-save,  _ oh fuck _ , Harry’s godfather. Went through the  _ nnnn _ veil.” Severus released her breast with a pop and moved to the other one, teasing the hardened peak with his teeth. “Silenced him as he cursed me.”

The scent rolling off of her was heady and thick and it was clouding his mind. He heard her words and he would find out more about exactly where and when she came from later, but his entire body was screaming at him to take her. 

To bring her to the peak of pleasure.

To  _ knot _ her. 

To  _ bite _ her. 

To  _ mate _ her. 

No. 

He refused to consider binding her to him without first giving her the choice, no matter how much he wanted to scent himself on her with every inhale, to know that it was his teeth that left the sweetest scar upon her shoulder. To know that she was eternally and irrevocably  _ his _ . 

If he did, he would be no better than his father who’d claimed his mother, an unmated Omega who wasn’t even his sire’s mate, without her consent. The thought of it was something Severus could not live with. 

No. Hermione would have a choice. And  _ his Omega _ would choose him. 

“Good girl,” he crooned, smirking up at her from between her breasts as her entire body flushed. “Look at you, my sweet Omega. I wonder just how wet you are.” 

“ _ So wet.”  _ Her voice was breathy and taut with the winding tension. He’d play her like a harp, plucking this string and that until she was perfectly in tune and playing a song that was just for him. “For you, Severus.” 

His fingers crept between her parted thighs to press against her cotton-covered center and came away slick from just a brush of his fingers. Rocking back onto his knees, Severus studied her with dark eyes. Her skin was flushed with desire and the amber of her eyes was nearly clouded by the black of her pupils. The shirt pooled around her sides, leaving only her arms covered in dark fabric, unlike the white cotton of her knickers. 

“Messy girl,” he teased, drawing a finger through the slick coating her thighs. He could only imagine how much he would find when he finally claimed his prize. 

Her fingers dug into her hair and she arched towards him, begging for his touch with each movement and the soft, breathy sounds that left her mouth. Slipping his fingers beneath the waistband, he slowly peeled her knickers away from her hips, smirking when he noticed them trying to cling to her cunt. 

He dropped them on the floor not a moment later and pulled her leg over his shoulder. Severus laved open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her calf, his thumb pressing against the scent gland at the back of her knee as he drew his tongue through the slick gathered along her thigh. 

He was painfully hard against the seam of his trousers, but he pushed her leg forward and parted her folds with his nose, growling with rapture against her center. With a flattened tongue, he licked from her core to her clit, coating his tongue in her and pulled sounds from her that were rhapsodic. 

His name was babbled amongst a string of syllables he couldn’t identify and he smirked against her cunt. Nimble fingers worked over the buttons of his shirt and trousers and he managed to shed them without leaving his Omega wanting. With just a few more deft flicks of his tongue, Hermione crested below him and Severus gripped his cock in his hand, pulling long strokes over his length and he worked her through each wave. Her body shuddered beneath him, one of his hands pressing against her abdomen to keep her still as he teased her, prolonging her pleasure as slick pooled from her core. 

Withdrawing his mouth from her sweet center, Severus kissed the soft, sticky skin of each of her thighs. He took in the serene expression and the soft smile before gathering her in his arms. His hands slipped beneath the shirt and up her back, and he pulled her up to rest against his chest. He held her in place with one hand, whispering praises against her ear as he slowly slipped the shirt from her shoulders. 

He had to swallow down his rage when the dark pink word  _ carved _ into her arm came into view. 

_ Mudblood _ . 

The near painful arousal he had felt just moments before receded, his cock flagging against his thigh, half-hard as he struggled to reign in his emotions. 

Fury. 

Disgust. 

Sorrow. 

Failure.

Love.

When his hand covered her forearm, he could feel the rough, raised patches where it had yet to heal. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he crushed her to his chest. Severus Snape was not a man to cry. He was a man who kept his emotions carefully schooled. Always in control beneath a cool mask or behind his mental shields and yet he was unable to stop them all from rushing through his veins and clouding his mind.

Just like the one bisecting her torso, he knew the word carved into her forearm would never fade. Curse scars might lighten slightly, but they never blended into the skin. They served as a near constant reminder of the violent experience in which they occurred. She would forever bear the hideous slur on her arm and the mere thought nearly made him fly apart. 

A gentle brush of her lips against the scent gland at the juncture of his neck and shoulder was the only thing that held him together. 

“Severus.” The sound of his name falling from her lips was so soft, so tentative and he could sense her hesitation, overpowering the lingering scent of her desire, temporarily dampened from her recent orgasm. “I’m okay.” 

She shouldn’t have to reassure him, but the words themselves settled something deep within him. 

“When?” was all he managed, deep voice cracking where his mouth was pressed against her shoulder. 

Her tongue licked a calming path over his scent gland and the tension drained from his body like a slow leak. “Easter.” 

His brows furrowed almost painfully. She’d been hurt so recently and he hadn’t been there to protect her. If his suspicions proved correct and she had traveled through time from the future, why hadn’t he been there? She was  _ his _ . He should have been by her side. She never should have had to suffer. Never should have been near anyone or anything that could possibly harm her. 

He nuzzled his nose against her neck, letting her scent calm him to the depths of his soul. “I’ll never let anyone harm you again.” 

“I know.” 

He held her for an interminable amount of time, hands stroking along the curve of her spine and simply breathing her in as she purred against him. He felt the change in her body before he smelled her arousal peak, once more. She grew warmer in his arms and her lips wrapped around one of his scent glands, sucking, licking, and scraping her teeth across it in an impossibly soft way that made his entire body surge with need. 

He pressed her into the bed, covering her with his body, hips raised just above hers. Fingers parted her folds and gathered the slick there to coat his cock and for the first time, the scent of them combined filled his nose. Already the base of his cock swelled with a hint of a knot. 

A soft, keening whine came from below him. “Alpha, please.” 

His thumb flicked over her clit and her back arched, pushing her slick warmth closer to him. Instinctively, her small hands curled into the duvet pulling it around them like a tiny nest, shrouding them in comfort and warmth and something that was quintessentially them. 

“Fuck me, Alpha. Knot me,  _ please.”  _

“Mine,” he whispered against the shell of her ear before his nose and lips brushed against the mating gland on her shoulder. Still gripping his cock, he teased her with the head, rubbing against her clit, then down to her entrance. “Say it, Omega.” 

“Yours,” she breathed, golden eyes finding his and full of everything he didn’t know he needed. Warmth, desire, and something edging so close to  _ love _ that it nearly made him tense. 

He pushed forward and in one stroke he was buried within her. The feeling of her tense, and warm, and slick around him overwhelmed him. Lightning licked up his spine and fireworks burst behind the lids of his eyes. He’d felt the membrane give way when he entered her and he was powerless to stop himself as he rocked against her core, pulling delicate moans from her lips.

He’d never expected her to be untouched. 

Heavy pants fell from his lips as his knot swelled unexpectedly, engulfing him with pleasure he had only dreamt of before. His lips grazed her shoulder as instinct shattered any command he had over himself.

His teeth sunk into her shoulder, her blood and her scent filling his mouth as his teeth pierced her mating gland, forcing her pleasure as he emptied himself within her. She pulsed around him while the sweetest, most perfect sounds poured from her lips in a song meant only for him as the waves of her orgasm crested. 

Sharp nails dug into his back as something deep within him forced a roar from his chest at the satisfaction at having claimed an untouched Omega.  _ His Omega. His mate. _

But he’d done the one thing he told himself he would not do. 

He’d taken her choice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a scene in which Severus' instincts take over and he mates Hermione by biting her mating gland without prior discussion and against his own personal wishes. This could be considered non-con or dub-con.


	6. Chapter 6

“Say it, Omega.” 

“Yours,” she breathed, golden eyes finding his. His dark eyes swirled with something that was nearly feral, piercing in a way that shot straight to her core. But Hermione couldn’t look away. Strong arms wrapped around her and she held his gaze as he positioned himself at her center and sheathed himself within her in one quick stroke. 

Euphoria was all she felt as he rocked against her, his teeth sinking into her flesh and piercing the gland that sat just beneath the skin. She screamed her pleasure as her nails dug into his back, nearly certain that the blinding flash of pain would overpower the burning until it abruptly settled into a gentle warmth as her orgasm washed over her.

His knot grew, locking them together and she felt  _ whole _ for the first time in her life as his spend emptied into her womb.

It was unlike anything Hermione had ever felt before. There would be time for longer, passion filled couplings later, but this—the way they were joined and the way their scents mingled and became one, was utterly perfect. 

And she basked in the glow until her senses returned. 

Her mate’s face was buried against her shoulder as he held her tightly against him, whispering words so quietly she couldn’t understand. They were soft, reverent, and full of something she couldn’t comprehend. Desperately, she forced herself into coherence and her nose wrinkled as his scent filled her, until everything tasted bitter and wrong and their bond thrummed discordant with conflict.

_ Oh. _

He hadn’t meant to bite her—to  _ mate _ her. 

Couldn’t he see? Didn’t he understand? 

“Severus,” she called softly, threading her arms around him to stroke along the curve of his back, her fingertips brushing over the indentations of several scars as they made their way up and down his spine. She would have to ask about those later, the thought of his skin being marred unsettled her, likely as much as her own scars had pained him. 

She tried again a moment later when he didn’t respond, pulling her fingers through his dark hair. 

“Severus.” 

His lips and tongue soothed the fresh bite between a string of whispered apologies, finally loud enough that she was able to make out the frantic murmurs. His body tensed under her gentle touch, moaning softly against her skin, as his cock spasmed within her, releasing more of his spend with it. 

As utterly euphoric as it felt with the way her cunt clenched around his knot, the scent of his grief hanging in the air troubled her. The thrum of the bond between them was everything she’d read about—dreamed about. Even if mating came earlier than she’d ever anticipated, bonding with her mate was something that made her world come alive. It made her happy. 

From the moment she’d scented him, she’d known he was hers. 

Mating was inevitable.

_ They _ were inevitable. Powerless to resist 

Did he not realize that? 

“ _ Alpha!”  _ Hermione’s voice was firm and insistent and Severus’ met her gaze, but as soon as his troubled eyes found hers, his gaze drifted towards her cheek.

Impatience and frustration pulled a huff from her lungs and her small hands encircled his stubbled jaw, directing his gaze back to her eyes with a not so gentle tug. She could see the grief in the dark of his pupils with such clarity and he made no effort to hide it from her. The depth of emotion swirling within threatened to rend her heart as her instincts cried out for her to soothe her Alpha. 

She pulled his face down to hers and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. His response was immediate as their mouths melded together and another pulse from his cock sent more of his spend to fill her womb. The small voice in the back of her mind was pleased with the possibility of being bred.

“Mine,” she whispered, dark and possessive against his lips. 

She felt him relax, if only infinitesimally, and the acrid smell that had pervaded the room began to fade. With a sigh, his forehead pressed against hers and their noses nuzzled together before he carefully rolled them over so she was able to rest on top of him. Her head settled against his chest and she melted into him with each beat of his heart.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione.” The deep baritone rumbled through his chest and she thought he might say more, but she would take no more apologies—especially not for something she so desperately wanted. 

“I’m not,” Hermione pressed her lips against the pale skin of his chest near his heart. “Not even for a moment.” 

“I took away your choice.” It was like he hadn’t even heard her as he spoke more tentatively than she’d ever heard him speak before, his voice nearly wavering with each syllable.

“A few hours ago, I never thought I would have this chance, Severus. I saw your body interred in the ground for Merlin’s sake.”

Hermione felt the rush of breath as it left Severus’ body, but she didn’t stop speaking. She couldn’t stop. She needed to make him see that she accepted him as her mate. The thought of him rejecting their bond was enough to render her catatonic with her own grief. She couldn’t allow him to speak those words, to reject her—to reject  _ them, _ when their chance had nearly been ripped from them. 

“And I don’t know how you are here now but the one thing I do not regret is that I’m  _ yours _ . How could I? The moment I scented you, I knew. You must have felt it. Tell me you feel it, Severus.”

She pushed up from where she rested on his chest and balanced her weight on her forearm, amber eyes peering down at him in desperation. 

_ Don’t reject us, Alpha… please. _

The fingers of his right hand threaded through her curls as his left remained splayed over her hip before it skated up to press between the blades of her shoulders. His eyes lingered briefly on the purpling mark surrounding her now punctured mating gland before his gaze settled on her eyes. 

“I feel it.”

A gentle smile spread over her lips and she shifted forward to kiss him. “A bit terrifying, isn’t it? Feeling everything with such clarity?” 

His steady gaze held hers as his thumb stroked her cheek but the edges of his lips lifted in the smallest of smiles. “Are you certain you’re okay with this?” His fingers trailed down to brush the indentation of his teeth on her shoulder and she shuddered, unable to suppress the moan that rolled over her lips. 

“I’m certain.” 

He swallowed and shifted below her, the sudden movement tugging on his knot forcing a groan from both of them. “Tell me when you’re from.” 

She didn’t hesitate when she said, “1998.” If he were asking, that must mean—

“It’s 1981,” he said quietly. She could see the turmoil in his eyes and it seared her heart worse than the burning of the fever that accompanied her heat. “And I’m… Did you, did we--”

Hermione settled herself back against his chest, her eyes growing drowsy and lids fluttering closed. “No. Neither of us knew.” 

HIs arms encircled her as Severus hugged her against his chest, his knot finally beginning to deflate. “I died without knowing you.” 

“You knew me… but you didn’t know I was yours.” 

\---

Severus didn’t know what time it was when he awoke. His sleepy Omega was tucked safely against his side with her head on his chest while one of his arms was curled around her and the other held her hand. Blinking in the darkness of his chambers to force the sleep from his eyes, he breathed deeply. The scent of their quick coupling and something uniquely  _ them _ filled the room and calmed his mind. It had been years since he’d felt this calm and devoid of anger and it was all because of this tiny Omega wrapped around him. 

She was perfect, and she was his. And while he didn’t know how she took her tea or whether or not she could craft a proper calming draught, he knew that he had time to learn everything about her. 

Learning that she had, in fact, come from the future was jarring, especially since in the future, he was dead. He resolved to ask about examining her memories later to discern exactly how she came to be in his time and how his death had come to pass, but for now he wouldn’t worry. She was in heat and now was not the time to delve into her mind looking for secrets and memories about what their future held. 

Her presence here must have already changed something.

With careful movements, Severus untangled himself from his mate and slipped out of their bed. He covered her with one of his shirts, surrounding her in his scent, and watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept so peacefully. It was possible she was even more lovely now with her face soft with sleep and her hair spread wildly over his pillows. 

Tearing his gaze away, Severus padded on quiet feet into the living area of his quarters after pulling a flannel robe around himself. A snap of his fingers was all it took to call one of the many house-elves to him. With strict orders for food to be brought to his chambers and a quickly penned letter to Dumbledore, the house elf disapparated as quietly as it had appeared. 

He had to tell the Headmaster the reason he would not be teaching his classes for the next several days. Without giving away too many details, the letter indicated he was taking heat leave for the next several days and to, under no circumstances, allow Horace Slughorn to teach his classes. 

He would explain everything later once Hermione’s heat had finished and they decided how to move forward. With school in session, he knew the Dark Lord would not summon him, but he would need to inform his other master of his newly mated status before too long. It was not a conversation he was looking forward to, but it was needed nonetheless.

Severus placed extra wards on the door to ensure neither he nor his mate would be disturbed, save for the house-elves bringing food, for the next several days. 

\---

Hermione felt the familiar sting of panic wash over her when she awoke and Severus was not in their bed. The entirety of her fears of spending her heat alone were brought to the forefront of her mind and her chest fluttered with rapid breaths as panic engulfed her. Even with the sting of being stretched with his knot between her thighs, her mind reminded her it could have all been a dream before the tears began to flow and she pulled his shirt tightly around her. 

She forced herself out of the bed, away from the messy sheets and her haphazardly constructed nest full of their combined scents, and opened the door.

Hermione managed to surprise her mate when she flung herself into his arms and her small hands quickly dismantled the knot of his dressing gown. She pressed herself against his bare body when the gown parted. His arms looped around her and tugged her close as he stroked her hair. 

The embrace was comforting and wonderful, but it did little to stop the tears that flowed over her cheeks. She sniffled, nuzzing her nose against his collarbone until he leaned forward and allowed her to press her nose against his scent gland, desperately needing the reassurance that her mate was alive and well. When she breathed him in and the scent of them filled all of the spaces within her, Hermione’s anxiety cooled to a simmer. 

“I thought you were gone.” 

Long fingers pulled through her tangled curls, gently releasing some of the snarls with patient strokes. “Of course not, little one. I’m here,” he assured her. “I’ll always be here.” 

She shook her head against his chest, her mind calling up the images of the funeral she had attended many years into the future—her present. “But what if you’re not.”

She couldn’t even conceive of returning to her own time. Not without him. Not with the fever burning low in her belly calling for her mate, his knot,  _ their pups.  _

“I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that I am.” Severus pressed his lips against her temple and Hermione wanted to lose herself in the depths of his voice as her Alpha—the Alpha she never thought she’d see again, held her close. “I promise.” 

The gentle strokes of the pads of his fingers over her back made her squirm as slick trickled from her center and over her thighs. She purred against his chest and rubbed her thighs together to try and ease the ever-increasing throbbing between her legs. 

“Your fever is spiking again.” 

Hermione’s tongue pressed against the scent gland at the base of his neck and her lips formed a perfect ring around it. She laved the swollen gland with her tongue, nipping at it with her teeth and leaving her own mark on her Alpha as she scented him. 

“Needy girl,” Severus teased, his hands slipping down to grasp her waist, thumbs rubbing just beneath the curve of her breasts. 

Hermione nose nuzzled beneath his jaw and her fingernails raked over his back forming pink lines beneath the flannel of his parted robe. “Need you, Severus.” 

His cock grew hard between them and just as her slick left sticky trails over her thighs, so was her stomach dotted with the pre-cum leaking from from the tip. She slipped her hand around him, trailing her fingers over his hip and curled her fingers around his cock. The knot at the base had deflated from their earlier coupling but she could just make out the subtle curve of where it would grow. Her fingers tightened around it and Severus moaned, his face pressing against her curls as he canted his hips forward. 

“ _ Fuck. _ ”

Hermione drew her hand along his length and over the tip, spreading the lubrication over his cock with the next stroke. 

“Such a good girl.” Severus' hands slid along Hermione’s ribcage to cup her breasts, the thumbs and forefingers of each pinching her nipples until they stood dark and taut. Her head fell backward and her mouth dropped open in a breathy moan as she stroked her hand along his length. With her neck bared to him, Severus pressed reverent kisses to the bruised and bitten mating mark on her shoulder.

A shiver coursed up Hermione’s spine with each sweet kiss and lap of his tongue upon her mark while her thumb swiped along the underside of Severus’ cock. When she tried to lower herself to her knees, craving the taste of his seed on her tongue, he pulled her back up and locked his eyes upon her own with a stern gaze. 

“Later.”

“But I want to taste you.” Her protest fell on deaf ears as Severus picked Hermione up and hoisted her over his shoulder, one hand holding her steady while the other slipped through the slick gathered between her thighs.

“Put me down!” Hermione laughed and kicked her feet, but her giggles were swiftly turned to sharp gasps and keening moans as one hand came down over her backside. Her feet stilled and her lips pressed a kiss to his back as he carried her back into the bedroom, his palm soothing her reddened backside. 

Severus nipped at her hip before tossing her down on the bed, causing a shriek from Hermione when she landed on the soft bedding. The robe covering her mate was dropped to the ground as he grinned feral when he covered her body with his own. 

“Only good girls get their Alpha’s knots.” His fingers teased her folds, dipping just between them but not enough to relieve the ache in her belly that called for him to knot her and fill her with his seed. 

“I’ll be good!” she promised, smiling up at him with fever burning in her gaze. “Let me be good for you, Alpha.” 

His lips found her forehead just as his fingers circled her clit. “You’re perfect, Hermione.” 

It was as if fireworks burst behind the lids of her eyes when he slid his fingers inside of her. She felt every sensation as his fingers stroked her inner walls towards the inevitable climax but it was the acceptance and love pouring through their bond that forced her over the edge moments later as he crooned praises against the shell of her ear. 

“Beautiful.” Severus’ hands pressed her thighs wide, opelny admiring her swollen sex, glistening with slick. “I could watch you come for days, my sweet mate.”

With her cheeks a bright shade of crimson at his declaration, Hermione moaned as his fingers began to circle her clit once more. Her thighs quaked and her stomach tightened as he pushed her towards another orgasm. Severus pulled whimpers and moans from her throat as he climbed onto the bed, his knees meeting the backs of her thighs as he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at her entrance. 

“Say it again.” Hermione’s fingers threaded through her hair as her back arched and her hips pressed forward as if to beg for him to sink into her center. 

One hand skated along Hermione’s curves and teased her breast, caressing the soft skin with whispered touches and light pinches. “My mate.” 

The entire castle could have fallen into ruin around them and Hermione wouldn’t have noticed, she was so transfixed by Severus and how he played her body as if he’d studied it for decades. 

When he finally pressed his hips forward and sunk himself into her slick heat, inch by torturous inch, his weight dropped over her and he growled against the shell of her ear when he was fully sheathed inside of her, “Mine.” 

“Yours.”

Severus gathered Hermione in his arms, pressing her whimpering form against his chest as he entered and withdrew from her over and over again. His lips ghosted over her sweat-slicked skin and her fingers threaded into his hair, keeping him close. It was as their first coupling should have been. No matter how the fire burned through Hermione, she placed herself in Severus’ hands, trusting him to give her what she needed. 

There was no need to beg for more when she was satisfied with each slow, measured stroke of his cock dragging along her walls and thrusting back again. 

There was no need to plead for release when he pulled her to the edge and sent her flying with whispered promises of the love that would grow between them. 

There was no need to supplicate herself before him because his knot filled her and locked the pair of them in an embrace as old as time itself. 

If there was anything that cemented Hermione’s belief in their shared destiny it was the unmistakable way in which Severus loved her with each press of his lips to her throat and each sentiment he crooned in her ear. Pretty words echoed the emotions coursing through their bond and the desires of a life together.

She fell asleep with his scent surrounding her, his heartbeat in her ear, and his knot buried within her. It was all that mattered. 

There would be time to figure everything else out later. 


	7. Chapter 7

The familiar pinpricks of her heat settled beneath her skin as the scent of her arousal filled the small space. The intensity was less than it had been and she knew her heat was coming to a close. Hermione turned over in the bed, writhing against the soft cotton sheets and positioned herself over Severus, who was still asleep. It hadn’t fully gripped her yet that her mate was not simply going to disappear and so she spent a moment studying his face in the dark, lit only by two small floating orbs in the corner of the room. There was no moonlight to be seen down in the dungeons. 

He didn’t seem to stir when she straddled his waist, nor did he appear to awaken when she lightly brushed her finger along the curve of his cheek. Hermione pushed a lock of hair away from his face and bent down, planting her hands on either side of his head before pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss. At first, he didn’t so much as stir, but she didn’t stop. She felt his hardness growing beneath her and she rocked against him, sliding the slick folds of cunt along his cock as she licked at the seam of his lips with her tongue until they parted and admitted her. 

His hands caressed the curves of her thighs and traveled over her hips to softly cup her face between his palms. He nuzzled his nose against her own and whispered a single word against her lips. 

“Mine.” 

It had almost become a mantra he’d uttered it so often as if he feared she would slip away with the night and be gone with the sunrise. She never failed to return a single word of her own. 

“Yours.” 

The past several days had proven exactly how true that was. There was a sense of peace that came over Hermione when she lounged with him in the warm bath, letting him wash away the sweat and grime and soothe her sore muscles. There was a sense of belonging she’d never felt when they quietly conversed when her heat ebbed enough to allow her a few moments of lucidity. And there was a sense of nurturing when they dined together on the sofa in the living area of Severus’ quarters and he fed her bits of cheese and fruit with gentle coaxing when she wanted nothing more than to ride him until they both reached their completion. 

It was in these quiet moments that she dreamed of what their life could be. His actions were in direct contradiction to those she knew when she was his student, many years in the future and possibly in a different timeline altogether, but somehow she knew that with the right person at his side, he could walk with purpose in a world where he was not bound to two masters and where he could be free of those obligations. Her mind conjured images of a quaint cottage in the country with shelves overflowing with books and one or two little ones they would eventually send off to Hogwarts. 

It was impossible to know what would happen when her heat ended and they were forced to face their obligations, but for now, she could dream. 

Their coupling was unhurried and sweet. Severus slipped easily into her dripping core, sheathing himself in her warmth with a soft groan while Hermione moved above him, rocking her body to an unknown melody that played only for them. Hands drifted over the curves and planes of each other’s bodies and fingertips pressed against shoulders and hips in an effort to continue their slow, languid dance. 

His fingers found her clit and circled and teased her towards her peak and when she crested, the knot at the base of his cock swelled and locked them together as he came undone. Hermione settled herself against Severus’ chest as he stroked the curve of her spine and traced inarticulate patterns along the ridges.

She felt like she could stay like this forever—wrapped in his protective embrace. Plans would need to be made and decisions considered. But for now, in their own quiet space, they were content to simply be. 

It wasn’t long before she felt the last vestiges of fever retreat from her body and she knew her heat had ended. Severus must have sensed it too, though the scent of their couplings still filled his chambers; about the only place they hadn’t consummated their new bond was in the potions lab, but the sofa and the antique rug in the sitting room had not been spared the same courtesy. 

“It’s done, then?” Severus asked as his fingers worked shampoo through her curls. She’d pulled him to the bath once she felt the fever leave her and he’d insisted on washing her hair as he’d done countless times over the past few days as sweat and fluids caked their bodies. 

She hummed in acknowledgement, letting the warm water scented with herbs and oils ease her tired muscles. 

“How do you feel?” She could hear the tension in his voice, even as his long fingers massaged her scalp. The euphoria from her heat had faded and she knew he was worried that something might happen to tear them apart or to change her mind. 

“Good.” A smile rose to her lips as she considered their couplings over the last few days. “But sore.”

He chuckled behind her, the rumble from his chest soothing something within her and nearly making her preen at her ability to put her Alpha at ease. That little voice in the back of her mind cooed that her Alpha was happy and that she was good, even if he didn’t utter the words himself. “No regrets?” 

A warm stream of water poured from Severus’ wand to wash the shampoo from her curls, the bubbly foam flowing her body and into the tub. “Only that we didn’t christen the potions lab.” 

It was said in jest, but she got a pinch to her side for her remark which caused her to squeal. The involuntary movement caused the water from Severus’ wand to flow down her face instead of her curls and she sputtered even as she laughed. “You did that on purpose, Severus Snape!” 

He smirked at her when she turned and he grasped her wrist before she could splash water in his face. “You’ll never prove it,” he muttered as he threaded her arms around his neck and pulled her close so their fronts were pressed together. 

“Such a snake,” she gently chided, her knees parting to straddle his lap before kissing his cheek. His hands cupped her arse as he slotted himself against her entrance but he didn’t enter her. 

“Too sore?” he asked, lips fluttering over the freckles dotting her cheek . 

She shook her head as she felt herself grow slick between her thighs. It was nothing compared to the deluge that seemed to drip from her during her heat, but it was enough that when she lowered herself down on his length, hissing as her swollen cunt stretched to accommodate him, that was still pleasant. “Not too sore. Just go slow.” 

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” 

\---

It was when a knock came at the door several hours later that Hermione realized they couldn’t stay in their own bubble forever. Severus pressed his lips against her forehead and dressed quickly. The sight of him clothed in proper trousers and robes seemed wrong somehow but it still made her stomach tighten and her heart flutter when she dragged her eyes over him.

He closed the door to the bedroom and Hermione could just make out the murmur of voices on the other side. She wanted desperately to find out who he was speaking with, but she lacked any actual clothing of her own and it would be improper to leave his bedroom in only a dressing gown or one of his shirts, especially if the person on the other side was a student. She cursed her lack of forethought in keeping her beaded bag with her when she left Severus’ chambers several days ago and several years in the future to find a pain potion. 

She didn’t even have her wand to transfigure something out of the clean bed linens. 

When Severus walked back into the bedroom a few minutes later, Hermione had curled herself into a ball on the bed with tears streaming down her face. 

\---

The sight of Hermione crying called to something primal within him.

_ Your Omega is hurting. Fix it. _

Gathering her in his arms, she sobbed into his shirt as he stroked her bare back. His palm covered her mating mark and he swiped his thumb back and forth over the bruised flesh in an attempt to soothe her. Her body, which had been tight and rigid, relaxed. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

The endearment still felt strange on his tongue, but the first time he’d uttered it Hermione’s eyes had lit up as if he’d told her she’d won a vault filled with galleons. He could feel her joy coursing through the bond that it was almost palpable and he resolved to always try and put a smile on her face. She was his mate and deserved every happiness, and even if he was still uncertain about mating with her. He’d seen what a rejected bond could do to a man and a woman, and though he saw no signs of rejection from her, thus far, it still flickered in the back of his mind that she might leave or reject him, as most others in his life had. 

It seemed more than a few days since she had been in his life. Rationally, he knew the exact moment of her arrival but with her near, everything felt so much lighter. The dark cloud hanging over him that was the relationship between Lily and James Potter seemed inconsequential. It was easy to see why the bond between his mother and father soured now that he’d found  _ his _ Omega, his soulmate, his destiny. Had he and Lily mated, their own bond would have broken in time. It was one thing to understand biological compatibility on a fundamental, scholastic level but it was entirely another to  _ live it. _

She shivered against him and he tugged the blanket around her shoulders, soothing her with gentle touches and quiet words. 

A roar of anguish flooded through their bond and his arms tightened instinctively around her. “I’ve lost everything.” The words were quiet and filled with so much pain that it made his heart seize in his chest. 

A deep frown set on Severus’ mouth as he realized how much she had given up to come back to the past. She’d traveled back in time with no more than his shirt on her back and now that her heat was over, the grief over her situation was setting in. He asked the one question that terrified him, simply because it was the right thing to do and if she wanted it, he would find a way to make it happen. 

“Do you want to go back to your own time, Hermione?” 

“I-I couldn’t leave you, Severus. I already know what it's like not to have you and I couldn’t bear it.” 

Relief flooded through him, selfish as it felt, but he didn’t need to worry about her disappearing to the future once more. He pushed away the small voice in his mind that nattered on about her still being able to leave him in other ways, and focused on the sweet witch in his arms. 

“The house-elves have brought you things to wear, if you’d like to put on something more than this.” He tugged at the sleeve of the shirt that his mate was wearing. “It’s not much, but it will last for a few days until we can go to Diagon Alley to replace your wand and gather whatever else you need to be able to make a life here.” 

She sniffled quietly and made no move to separate herself from him, “I miss my friends.” 

Severus could only nod. Apart from Lucius Malfoy, he was relatively friendless and while Hermione had told him little of her life in the future, he’d gathered enough information to know that her family and her friends were important to her. 

“Will you tell me about them sometime?” 

For some reason, that made her giggle. “Oh Severus, you couldn’t stand them.” 

“Excuse me?”

“You were our professor, you see.” That confession alone nearly made him sputter and Severus Snape was not a man who resorted to such idiotic displays of emotion, but somehow, he managed to hold his tongue. “Harry was the son of—” she stopped herself, teeth trapping her lower lip between them. “Should I be telling you all of this? It pertains to the future.” 

Slowly, a frown etched it’s way across Severus’ features as he appeared to consider the consequences of Hermione revealing the future. He’d read the studies and the researchers couldn’t agree as to whether time was linear or cyclical and if the possibility of alternate timelines and parallel universes existed. “Tell me what you can without revealing too much and we will make a decision.” 

Severus’ fingers ghosted over Hermione’s arms as she spoke, her head cradled against his chest. “I lived through the second wizarding war, though the one that is happening right now will be called the first. A lot of people died, Severus—muggleborns, half-bloods, purebloods, but eventually the enemy was vanquished. Before that happened though, they managed to take over the Ministry and the final battle was held at Hogwarts. I went through a lot during my years at Hogwarts, mostly because of who I was friends with and the circumstances in which we found ourselves in. Nowhere was truly safe, especially once the leader of the opposition made an appearance. My friend was the one who killed him, but there were a lot of steps to take before that could happen.”

Severus remained quiet and still as he contemplated every word she uttered. If he was interpreting the clues correctly, the war she had lived through was only an extension of the one he was living through now. He needed to know. “Do you know my role in all of this, little one?” 

She seemed reluctant to tell him, as if she might be giving too much away, but the words flowed over her lips as her fingers circled the buttons of his shirt. “You served as a spy. Your motivations came out after you died, though most thought you were not on our side.” 

Severus had only served as a spy for mere months and now his mate was telling him he would be a spy until the day of his death, which, if he’d interpreted her cues correctly, was within a few months shy of the day she traveled back in time. Nearly twenty years of teaching imbeciles at Hogwarts and trading time and secrets between two masters. The thought of it alone was enough to condemn him to an early grave. 

Though, something his mate had said earlier struck him, flitting into his mind as though it were the final ingredient needed to shift a potion from inert to magical.    
  
_ “You knew me, but you didn’t know I was yours.”  _

Though his mate had only been with him for a few days, he already knew he would move mountains to keep her safe. What else could have motivated him to remain a spy between the dark and the light? He’d initially agreed to the Headmaster’s terms to protect Lily, but that couldn’t be what motivated him in the future, could it? Unrequited love for a childhood friend who was mated to another Alpha? 

He swallowed visibly and dropped a kiss to Hermione’s crown, lips lingering on her soft curls. “If you tell me of my motivations, I may be able to discern if your presence here has altered the timeline.” 

“Lily Potter.” 

Those two words were all it took for Severus to recognize that the timeline had changed, even though Hermione went on to explain about memories shared on his deathbed. He held her tightly when she discussed his death, how she pressed her hand over the wound at his neck caused by a snake of all things, and how his eyes were only focused on her friend as the memories slipped from his eyes through his tears. 

Severus was certain that if his future self had known she was his mate, he would have had eyes only for her. Even if the world had ripped them apart sometime between now and when he inevitably became her professor, if he had been on his deathbed with the choice to hold his mate’s gaze for his last moments, he wouldn’t have been able to look away from  _ her. _

“I’m nearly certain the timeline has already been altered by your presence.” She went still in his arms and stared into nothing. Severus simply held her as she processed the fact that she would never be able to return to her own time, whether or not she wanted to. She would never be able to return to a future she knew. 

When she finally spoke, it disturbed the quiet of the room, though her voice was firm, if quiet. “Fighting for my life in one war was enough for twenty lifetimes, Severus. I don’t know if I have the strength left in me to fight another one.” 

“I want to hear about it. All of it.” Even though he knew it would spark his anger, he needed to know her story. It was something he ached for in the depths of his soul. Whatever she had lived through, whatever she knew, would be important to ending this war for good, so a second one would never have the chance to ravage their world. 

Her fingers fiddled with the hem of the shirt she wore, twisting the fabric between them and Severus felt her hesitation through their bond. “I’ll tell you, but I need time. I’m not quite ready to talk about everything just yet.”

As much as it pained him, he accepted it, trusting that she would tell him when she was ready. “We should speak with Albus sooner than later. The knowledge you hold in your mind could prevent the war you lived through in the future.”

Hermione nodded, nuzzling her face against his chest until she rose up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips against his and his hands crept up over her hips to rest at the curve of her waist. 

Severus was not raised with much affection in his life, but he was beginning to crave each little touch as he sunk further into the feeling of comforting and caring for his mate. 

“Dumbledore will need to know about the horcruxes and Peter Pettigrew first.” 

He brushed a stray curl away from her face, “Horcruxes, plural?” He’d heard of them, of course, but the idea of someone splitting their soul multiple times was repugnant. 

“Seven, in total, though he’s only made five at this point.” 

Severus couldn’t stop the swear. “Fuck.” Seven. Seven fucking horcruxes and already five were made. Suddenly, the Dark Lord’s unpredictability and violent fascinations made sense. The Dark Lord was no longer the charismatic politician he had followed in the beginning and it was clear the influx of dark magic required to split his soul was to blame. 

Hermione laughed and pressed her lips against his once more, cradling his face between her hands as though he were made of glass. “The moment we walk out of that door we will be actively at war and even,” Hermione drew a deep breath, “—even if I can’t find it in me to fight again, we will know little peace. Can we—can we pretend for a while longer that our only responsibilities are to love one another, Severus?”

Her bright eyes, so full of longing, bore into his and moved him in the depths of his soul. The bond flared between them, trilling and tweeting like a bird singing it’s first song of spring and even though he knew the Headmaster expected him in his office before the day was out, there was time yet to give his mate exactly what she desired. 

“You might just be the smartest witch I know,” he teased.

“Brightest Witch of her Age,” she grinned, her eyes sparkling with mirth and intelligence and somehow, he knew she was telling the truth. He’d need to ask her about that specific moniker later, but there was something about the way she carried herself and the way she spoke that told him she could hold her own alongside him. She was his equal, not merely his to protect, but the other half of his soul who would stand by his side and defend him at every turn. 

“Prove it.” 

Her hand drifted down his chest, fingers brushing over the soft linen of his shirt, and stopping only when they reached the placket of his trousers. A growl left Severus’ chest as he pressed his nose against her mating gland and inhaled their scents, mingling together to craft something so perfect it would be unmistakable to anyone who ever scented them that they belonged to no one but one another. 

_ Perfect. _

_ Mine.  _

_ Us. _

There would be many hard days ahead with war already raging around them and innocents dying each day. He would be pulled between two masters and she would work to bring down one of them with the drums of war sounding around them, but when the difficult days ended and they fell into bed together in the dark of the night, peace was found in the soft words and gentle touches of two lovers trying to make it through and survive. 

And together, they thrived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the comments, kudos, and love you've left for Unmistakable. I've so enjoyed writing these two and their story. I've marked this story as complete, at this point, because there is only the epilogue left. 
> 
> You can find and follow me on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/lumos.lyra)!


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into the lives of Severus and Hermione over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised an epilogue and apologize it's taken me so long to deliver one! I have a million ideas for other scenes from their lives, so an extra chapter may pop up here and there if/when inspiration strikes. Enjoy!

**August 1982**

Hermione cradled the sleeping toddler in her arms, the tips of her fingers brushing strands of his unruly black hair away from the lightning bolt shaped scar etched into his forehead by dark magic. 

They had been too late to save James and Lily, and while Voldemort was temporarily vanquished, giving the Order time to hunt down the remainder of his Horcruxes, Hermione knew he might return one day. Peter Pettigrew had managed to escape, the sniveling little rat that he was, but she’d managed to save Sirius Black from Azkaban, much to her mate’s dismay. 

_ “Do you have any idea what that little wretch put me through in school, Hermione? He deserves to rot on that god-forsaken island.” Severus paced their quarters, eyes still red-rimmed with his grief over the death of his childhood best friend.  _

_ Hermione shifted the infant in her arms, placing the bottle to his lips and smiling softly as he began to drink. “I’m well aware of what transpired, Severus.” _

_ “Then you, of all people, should know—” _

_ “Alpha.”  _

_ Her voice was quiet, pleading and as the word fell from her lips and he stilled, a discontented growl rumbling from his chest. “Do not use my designation against me, mate.”  _

_ “I need you to listen to me,” she said, her brown eyes finding the dark abyss of his own and holding his gaze. It was only when she saw her mate incline his head did she continue. “Harry needs to grow up around people who love him. Dumbledore wants to place him with Petunia and Vernon Dursley out of some misguided sense of familial magic. Tell me, Severus, who will give him the love and memories of his parents that he needs to thrive?”  _

_ “Black and Lupin,” he said, though the words were said through gritted teeth, as if he hated admitting a werewolf and an over-confident rake were the best choices to raise Lily’s child. She knew he still held some manner of affection for her, even if they had been estranged for several years and the protectiveness he showed to her child made Hermione’s pulse flutter. She knew he would love their own unconditionally and with an intensity she could only hope to rival. _

_ “Exactly. I know his fate if he goes with the Dursleys, and it’s something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.” Hermione closed her eyes, willing the images of the cupboard under the stairs where Harry had spent the better part of his childhood to leave her mind. “And we will be there every step of the way to make certain he turns out well rounded. Remus might be the more level-headed of the pair of them, but he’s still a Marauder and prone to a fair amount of mischief.” _

_ Severus paled at her declaration and she suspected it was because it meant more time around Moony and Padfoot, something he vehemently detested, though she understood his reasoning completely. Their first confrontation following Lily and James’ death had been anything but civil. Wands were drawn before pleasantries were exchanged, despite the fact that Hermione was holding the sole heir to the Potter name in her arms. She recognized the Alpha in Remus and instinctively bared her mating bite to him as she stood at Severus’ side. _

_ Remus drew back, settling a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as Hermione did the same to Severus, until the former rivals stood down and lowered their wands. Hermione and Remus quietly conversed while Sirius and Severus glared at each other from opposite sides of the room. It was agreed that Severus and Hermione would care for Harry while Grimmauld Place was renovated in order to turn it into a suitable home.  _

_ He’d been with them for several weeks now and Hermione was reluctant to let him go. She loved him as if he were her own, and in some small way, he was. In another lifetime, he was her best friend. In this life, he was hers to protect.  _

_ “Hermione…” Severus pleaded, crossing the room to kneel at her side.  _

_ She placed the nearly empty bottle on the side table and lifted Harry to her shoulder, patting him on the back. “He was my best friend, Severus. The least I can do is make sure he is well cared for, and while I could never replace Lily, he is going to need a mother’s influence being raised by Sirius and Remus.”  _

_ Severus’ hand drifted over her thigh to settle on her not-yet-rounded stomach, where he knew his own daughter was growing safely beneath his mate’s heart. “He’ll grow up with her then, I suppose.”  _

_ “We’ll have him every moon.”  _

Hermione smiled at the moonlight streaming through the small window as she stood from the chair she’d rocked both children to sleep in many times over. Pulling back the blanket, Hermione settled Harry into the small bed beneath the window and tucked him in before checking on Aurelia in the crib next to him. 

Her daughter slept soundly, tiny thumb in her mouth as her chest rose and fell with the deep breaths of sleep. She brushed her fingers through the mop of dark curls on the top of Aurelia’s head before quietly leaving the room, leaving the children to their dreams. 

**September 1984**

If there was anything Severus hated more than teaching first year potions, it was grading first year potions essays. His mate’s heat was days away and he’d yet to cope with the fact that his daughter would be staying at Grimmauld Place with the pair of canines whom his mate seemed to trust implicitly. Truth be told, he was nearly cordial with Remus, though he and Sirius came to blows more often than not over some slight. Hermione usually threw up a shield charm between them quickly enough to stop any permanent damage, much to Severus’ dismay. His focus was lacking as the words on the page of Irene Hencock’s essay blurring together, visions of his mate in heat filling his mind. 

She’d already yelled at him twice when he’d inadvertently moved one of the pillows on their bed out of formation, no matter that she’d moved the damn thing four times already. Her cheeks were flushed and he happily let her scold him since it meant when she was done, he was able to capture her lips in a searing kiss and thoroughly embed their scent in the yet-to-be-completed nest she had erected on their bed in anticipation of the days to come. 

She was warm and slick when his hands curled around her hips and he sheathed his cock within her, tight walls gripping him in the delicious way he’d come to crave since her appearance in his lab three years prior. It was something he would never tire of, the way she moaned his name as she tumbled over the edge of bliss, his knot locking them together in sleepy contentment. 

He was drawn from his thoughts when the door to his office opened and a flushed Hermione entered, her eyes already dark with the beginnings of her heat. A line of sweat dripped down her throat and over her exposed mating bite as she whimpered, “Alpha… Severus. It-it…” The words seemed to stick in her throat and her hands sank into her hair, pulling the riotous curls from the haphazard bun on the top of her head and sending them tumbling over her shoulders. 

The first year essays lay forgotten on his desk as he shoved his chair back and enveloped his mate in his arms, the warmth radiating off of her body and through his teaching robes making his fingers itch to remove them. 

“It’s early,” he said, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her scent. 

_ Mine. _

She melted into him, cheek nuzzling against the collar of his robes as her arms wrapped around his lithe frame. “Where’s Aurelia?” he asked, forcing his mind to clear from the haze threatening to over-take him. 

“Minerva—” 

One word was all it took to ensure him that his daughter was in safe hands and his lips crashed against Hermione’s, stealing the breath from her lungs in a searing kiss. He warded his office, the spells falling from his lips between frenzied kisses as he backed his mate towards his desk, the backs of her thighs colliding with the ancient wood. His hands braced her back as he lowered her soft body back onto his desk, the haphazard stack of first year essays rustling beneath her as he kissed a hot line over her sternum, lifting the soft fabric of her tee-shirt to settle his lips against her stomach. 

Another pregnancy wasn’t guaranteed but the Alpha prowling inside of him, knowing his mate was at her most fertile time, itched to watch her swell once more with his child. Finding out she had become pregnant after her first heat had been a shock to both of them and while Severus never expected to become a father, especially not at such a young age, the knowledge of the life they had created filled a void within he hadn’t known existed until then. 

Aurelia was his pride and joy, the one child he didn’t mind teaching despite her young age, and though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Lily’s son had grown on him as well. He was affectionately (and somewhat begrudgingly) known as Uncle Severus to the little boy, but he allowed it since it annoyed Black and Lupin to no end and according to his mate, he was no longer allowed to hex them after inadvertently setting the kitchen at Grimmauld Place on fire. 

He’d been aiming for Sirius, not the  _ bloody _ range. 

“Severus, please… It hurts.” Her fingers threaded through his hair and she arched her back, urging him down to where the slick pooling from her core had already dampened her cotton shorts. 

He breathed in the unmistakable scent of her, his fingers threading beneath the elastic waistband covering her hips. His lips trailed over her sweat-slicked skin as he lowered the fabric down her legs, his voice a reverent whisper, “I’ll take care of you, Hermione. Always.” 

**December 1987**

Christmas was one of Hermione’s favorite times of the year and she was slowly whittling away Severus’ resolve when it came to enjoying the Yuletide entertainments. When she had Hagrid drag a tree to their quarters, Severus shrank the magnificent fir so it would fit in a small pot on the desk despite her pouting. When he was teaching class, Hermione un-shrunk the tree and set it up to the right of the hearth. She coated the tree in heavy wards after she finished decorating it with the help of the Hogwarts house elves who happily supplied popcorn garlands and coloured baubles. 

Severus had been less than pleased but she quickly showed him the merits of ensuring that at least some of the Yuletide spirit was alive and well in their quarters when he walked in to find her lying naked on a transfigured bearskin rug beneath the twinkling lights she’d charmed onto the tree. 

He’d been much more agreeable after he’d taken his fill of her. 

Aurelia delighted in helping her mother decorate for Christmas and every year, and the pair of them seemed to bring a bit more holiday spirit into the set of rooms they shared at Hogwarts. The door to Aurelia’s rooms had a holly wreath on the door and fairy lights in Yuletide colors twinkled above her perfectly-made bed, though her favorite part of the Yuletide season was helping her mother decorate the tree. The bottom of the tree was littered with brightly coloured baubles and the top decorated more sparsely, evident of how far Aurelia was able to reach. It was a sight of imperfection that only endeared Severus to his daughter more. His wife, on the other hand, insisted on doing too many things the muggle way and he thoroughly scolded Hermione when he caught her standing on a chair to place the star atop of the tree instead of properly levitating it, terrified that she might fall and injure both herself and their unborn son. 

Still, the one thing she hadn’t managed to sway Severus towards was spending part of the holidays with Sirius, Remus, and Harry. He attended, begrudgingly, at her request and sat in the corner of the library at Grimmauld place nursing a tumbler of Sirius’ best firewhisky and thoroughly ignoring the festivities until Hermione drug him from the room with threats of making him sleep in Aurelia’s room to “keep the monsters away”. 

“Will it just be us again this year?” Hermione asked, levitating the plates to the large table in the dining room that she and Remus had decorated earlier in the day. The sounds of Aurelia and Harry playing with their toys could be heard in the other room and while she knew Severus had his nose buried in a book, he was still watching the children through a litany of monitoring spells he’d perfected over the past few years. 

“No, I’ve invited Andromeda,” Sirius said, finishing the wrapping on Remus’ Christmas present. “She’s bringing her husband and her little girl. Ran into them a few days ago in the Alley and thought it might be nice to reconcile with at least some of the family.”

“That’s lovely, Sirius.”

“And it’ll make Walburga roll over her grave, the nasty cow.” 

Hermione snorted a laugh. “Has Remus met them yet?” 

Sirius shook his head, sending the final present to settle under the tree in the living room, watching as it zig-zagged around the two children who were chasing each other and a floating quaffle through the air. “No, not yet. But I think Moony will like them.” 

Hermione bit her bottom lip, not daring to say anything. She wasn’t disappointed when the werewolf came face to face with his barely fourteen year old mate who managed to break a vase and put a hole in the wall before she even made it out of the foyer. The look that came over Remus’ face at the sight of the young clumsy witch fell somewhere between awe and terror. 

“This here is my good friend Remus.” 

Nymphadora stuck out her hand, her hair changing from a mousy brown to a bright pink at the sight of the older man, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.” 

Remus nearly groaned, his voice hitching, “Re-Remus will do just fine, Nymphadora.” 

Her little nose wrinkled and Severus leaned over to Hermione ignoring Aurelia who was tugging at the leg of his trousers. “Is that… who I think it is?” 

“Yep.” 

She doubted anyone could tell, but the corners of Severus' mouth were quirked up the slightest semblance of a grin as they watched Remus awkwardly side-step the little witch who already seemed infatuated with him for the remainder of the evening. 

**September 1, 1991**

Standing on the platform was a relief to Hermione. While Aurelia wasn’t quite old enough to attend Hogwarts just yet and Cyprian was barely three, it would be Harry’s first year and with the destruction of the final horcrux last year at the hand of Narcissa Malfoy, for the first time since she’d been thrust into the past, Hermione felt like she could breathe. 

Truthfully, she missed the castle, but the moment his part in the war was done, Severus handed his resignation into Albus and firmly told the older wizard he would not reconsider even if Albus plied him with the rarest of potions ingredients, a dozen house elves at his disposal, the entire contents of Gringotts, and unlimited tenure. With a twinkle in his eye, Albus had sent Severus and Hermione off with a small party and an overly-large display of fireworks. 

Severus and Hermione purchased a tidy storefront in Diagon Alley, opening a shop which sold a combination of common and rare potion ingredients, a handful of proprietary potions, draughts, and salves, and for the right price, access to a Master Creationist who enjoyed breaking spells down into their components and crafting new ones. Hermione had already filed the patent for a spell that allowed parents to determine the designation of their children by the time they turned three in order to better educate and prepare them for life as an Alpha, Beta, or Omega. They’d made a tiny sum from that crafted spell, let alone from the suppressant potion Severus had created with significantly fewer side effects for Omegas. 

It was the potion which allowed her to be on the Platform to see Harry over to Hogwarts for the first time since her heat was due to arrive within the next twelve hours. Aurelia and Cyprian would go with Sirius and Remus which might serve as a good distraction since Harry wouldn’t be under their roof for the first time in years, save for nights when there was a full moon. Marlene would mind the shop, and Severus and Hermione would seclude themselves in a small cottage on the coast for the three days her heat was due to last. 

Cyprian snuggled against Hermione’s shoulder, his little arms wrapped around her neck as he yawned. Aurelia stood next to her father, her hand tucked into his as her overnight trunk levitated behind them, a pout permanently etched onto her lips. 

Hermione’s eyes scanned the platform and with a sigh of relief, she caught sight of the Weasleys and their children. There was no young Hermione Granger roaming the platform that Hermione could tell, but it wouldn’t do to have two of her running around and having to explain to Harry and the rest of the children about her trip to the past. 

She hoped their time at Hogwarts wouldn't be fraught with dangers as hers had been and that they might be allowed to grow up in a world away from war and danger. 

The platform began to fill with more families seeing their children off to Hogwarts and soon her own was surrounded by others. Narcissa took Cyprian out of her arms the moment she and Lucius arrived on the platform with Draco and his younger sister. It amused Hermione to no end when Draco ran off to find Harry, the two of them thick as thieves. Aurelia darted away from her father to help a young Neville Longbottom catch his runaway toad, beaming proudly when she wrangled the little thing and helped him place it into its crate. 

The chaos that surrounded them was short-lived and before Hermione knew it, she was brushing Harry’s fringe out of his eyes and dropping a kiss to his forehead. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist and she wished him well. He did the same to Severus who managed a fond pat to Harry’s back before he said his good-byes to his godfather and uncle, the latter having noticeable trouble keeping his eyes off of his barely-of-age mate who’d come to see off her cousin with her mother and father. 

Hermione made certain her own daughter hadn’t somehow snuck on the train before tucking herself into Severus’ side as the eleven year olds began to board the train. 

“I’m not certain it will ever get easier,” Narcissa said, one of her hands idly rubbing a soundly- sleeping Cyprian’s back as she watched Draco board the train, Harry right behind him. 

“No, I don’t expect it will,” Hermione agreed, casting a quick charm to stop Cassiopeia from tripping as she ran circles around Lucius who looked far to exasperated and not at all certain of how to reprimand his youngest for her behavior. 

She felt the press of Severus’ hand at the nape of her neck, soothing the ache she’d been ignoring for the past several hours. “We’d better get going. We’re cutting it close as it is.” 

With a nod, Hermione said her farewells to the Malfoys, Sirius, and Remus before kissing her own children and reminding them to mind their manners. Severus did the same, twirling Aurelia around in his arms and passing her some sort of sweet Hermione knew was likely to keep her up all hours—just another way for her husband to irritate Sirius since she refused to allow him to even nudge his wand in the other man’s direction after the great kitchen fire of 1987. 

It may not have been the life she expected to live, but as she took Severus’ hand in her own and allowed the unmistakable scent of him to surround her and fill her senses as they watched the train pull out of the station, Hermione couldn’t have been happier. 


End file.
